Tesoro Mio
by Spinyfruit
Summary: Antonio's the charming, handsome farmer with an infuriating Spanish accent, and Lovino is the mysterious wine entrepreneur who comes and goes. When Antonio falls in love, he throws society, expectations, and religion to the wayside, but can a strict Catholic like Lovino do the same? –Wine Country AU, religious themes and homophobia, Spamano, multi-chapter.
1. Chapter One: Garnacha

_Main pairing is Spamano, but there will be mention of some side pairings._

_Each chapter will be titled with a different wine grape variety. Most of them will be Italian and Spanish, but if the focus of the chapter shifts to Francis, it will be French._

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

_Wine comes in at the mouth_

_And love comes in at the eye;_

_That's all we shall know for truth_

_Before we grow old and die._

_I lift the glass to my mouth,_

_I look at you, and I sigh._

_– W.B. Yeats_

* * *

_Spring_

* * *

**Chapter One**

_Garnacha_ _– a Spanish red wine grape variety. It is generally spicy, berry-flavored, and soft on the palate with relatively high alcoholic content._

~/~

"So _mon ami,_ how is your job going? Anything new to report?" Francis glanced mischievously at Antonio over his red wine.

Antonio chuckled lightly and said, "I don't think so _amigo_. I just tend to the plants. I don't know anything about how they make wine."

"Ah, well then you must get closer. Romance your way in," Francis winked and Antonio laughed carelessly. "Didn't they send two young girls to run the vineyard now? And they're related to the founder. I say, if they're pretty, go for it _mon cher_. They have enough money to set you up for life!"

"Haha, I don't need to be rich. And I like being close to the earth, so I think this job suits me," Antonio smiled and looked out the window at Francis's expansive vineyard. It seemed endless.

"I must agree that you were always the most likely of us to be in a tree…or somewhere digging in the mud."

"I don't mind the mess. And I like the outdoors, so what can I say?" Antonio grinned and savored the feeling of the sun heating his skin through the glass.

"Yes, you're lucky that you've found a job that supports you for that insane passion of yours. And you have me to thank, so don't forget that _mon cher_," Francis swirled his glass once before tipping it back and finishing the wine.

"_Si_, I suppose so. And the vineyard you sent me is _tan hermosa_ Francis! It's not as large as yours, but it's so incredibly perfect. I could live there forever," Antonio sighed, and silently wished that he hadn't left his job to pay his friend an afternoon visit.

But Francis seemed so lonely on the phone, he thought. Antonio had just wanted to cheer him up for a bit. But now, ay! How he wished he were back!

"Ah, I envy you Toni. You have such simple pleasures," Francis shook his head and his gold hair glinted in the California sunlight. Then his eyes shined in remembrance and he asked, "Ah, you never said anything about the girls? What are they like?"

"Oh, actually they're boys. And I've only met one of them. His name is Feli," Antonio said and chuckled slightly at the memory of him. "He's very sweet and funny, but I don't think he knows much about business. Feli said his brother does most of the that along with marketing and sales, and he helps out with the wine production."

"They're boys?" Francis's eyes widened in genuine surprise. He knew the new managers were young and Italian, and somewhere through the grape vine he had heard that they were girls. "_Merde_, I really need to leave this place sometime. I can't keep trusting my Greek farmer for gossip. He's too careless."

Antonio smiled awkwardly, and ran his fingers through his curly, brown hair. He didn't really know much about Francis's farmers or the town either. He left his vineyard more rarely than Francis left his, so he didn't know what to say.

"But I guess, boy or girl it's really all the same. What's the brother's name?" Francis asked as he wandered over to his large, silver fridge in search of another snack.

"Um," Antonio held the syllable for a few seconds, trying desperately to recall what Feli had babbled to him about. "Oh, I guess I don't know what it is, haha. Feli always refers to him as _fratello_, so I'm not sure." He shrugged and looked back out the window wistfully.

"You don't know? Haven't you seen him?"

"Nope. It's just been Feli, the other gardeners, and me for the past two months. He says his brother's away on business at their grandfather's vineyard in Verona. The main one I think. I don't know when he's coming back."

"Ah, then wait until both of them are here, pick one and then use him as your way into their secret formula," Francis plotted playfully, and walked back to the table with a fresh bowl of red grapes.

"I already told you, I don't know anything about wine," he laughed and picked at one of the grapes. "I'd be a terrible spy for you. I'd probably mess everything up. Especially if it's in Italian."

"Hm, quite true. And I don't want you ruining another batch of my wines like that other time," Francis raised his eyebrow at Antonio and frowned.

"I thought adding a tomato would be fun! I didn't know it would make it taste bad! Tomatoes never make anything taste bad!" He raised his hands and blushed slightly in embarrassment. He still owed Francis quite a bit of money for ruining that batch of wine.

But Francis only smiled casually in return, and said, "It's fine _mon cher._ Gilbert thought it was rather funny and started putting potatoes in after you, so it's not entirely your fault. If anything it might be mine for suggesting we drink wine before I show you how I make it." Francis sighed and Antonio scratched the back of his neck with a nervous laugh.

"_Ay, lo siento _Francis. I really am. But I'm making money now with my new job, so I should be able to pay you back soon!"

"Don't worry about it. At least now you have a job. Once it seems like you're on the path to stable employment, then we can talk about settling debts. At least you're trying…unlike Gilbert," Francis rolled his eyes and ate a grape.

"Isn't he helping his brother pay for school? Maybe he can't afford to pay you back right now!" Antonio suggested and glanced at the large kitchen clock impatiently.

It's already past four in the afternoon, and he had so many things to do before the sun set. And it's a forty-five minute bike ride back to the _Tesoro_ plantation where he worked, so he needed to get moving fast if he wanted to help Berwald and Kiku set up the new growth.

"That's what he says, but I know the truth. I know he's finding another way to spend it. I just don't know what it is," Francis cupped his chin in his palm and stared pensively at the table.

"Ah, well maybe if you talk to him or – or if you visit his liquor store you can find out the truth!" Antonio suggested with a smile and hoped desperately that Francis would latch onto the idea with newfound passion and race out the door. It was always hard for Antonio to refuse his friends' company.

"Perhaps I will," was all Francis replied, and then he looked up. "You know Toni, if you need to go, all you need to do is say so. Don't make me be the cause of your unemployment."

Antonio breathed a sigh of relief and immediately backed his chair out across the wooden floor with a loud screech.

Francis winced slightly at the noise, but Antonio didn't notice and said happily, "_Gracias, gracias_ Francis! _Lo siento mucho,_ but it's just that there's so much to do these days and it takes so long to get back on my bike!"

Antonio skipped across the kitchen and snatched his sunglasses and keys from the counter. Francis followed him casually with a branch of grapes and held the front door open for Antonio to race out. As he always did.

"It's no problem _mon cher_. At least you stopped by for a little while. Sometimes I feel as though I'm a princess locked away in a tower all the way out here. I miss the company of the city." Francis leaned against the door dramatically and watched Antonio parade down the driveway to his bike rather enviously.

Antonio never seemed lonely somehow.

"Haha, really? I like how quiet it is out here. It feels so much more romantic and intimate," Antonio laughed and looked out at Francis' vineyard.

He took a deep breath and smiled. California always reminded him so much of _España_. He loved everything about it: the mountains, the vineyards, the fields the sun…it was impossible for Antonio to go back to the city after living here.

"Well, as always it seems as though you and I have very different views on romance Toni. Personally, I find it hard to find _amour_ when I'm tucked away in the middle of no where," Francis frowned thoughtfully, and ate some of his grapes.

Antonio lifted his kickstand up and steadied himself against the ground.

"You just need to find _amor_ in nature Francis! Then you'll never be lonely!" Antonio yelled happily and started peddling down the gravel driveway.

"Grapes may be nice to look at, but they're not going to keep your bed warm at night! Remember that, _mon cher_!" Francis shouted back, but Antonio just waved at him and laughed again.

As Antonio took one last glance at Francis sighing at the doorway, he thought maybe if Francis knew what it was like to help a plant grow, then he would understand. There's nothing like the feeling of helping and nurturing something else to make it feel strong and beautiful.

When he reached the steepest hill out of Francis's plantation, Antonio picked up the pace, and after he reached the top, he let the bike coast down the hill and out into the winding road that led to the vineyard he worked at – _Tesoro_.

Feli explained to him that they're actually based in Verona, but the founder, who is also Feli's grandfather, started a little vineyard in Napa Valley too, among other places. It's not as big as Francis's vineyard, or some of the other plantations nearby, but Antonio thought it was by far the cutest, and with the happiest plants he'd seen yet.

When Francis called him up and said there was an opening for a farmer in Napa Valley, Antonio ran out of the little restaurant where he worked as a waiter, and never looked back at San Francisco. And once he stepped foot on the _Tesoro_ vineyard, he knew he'd found his dream job.

It was better than he'd ever imagined because not only was he able to work the land for the living, but Feli also put him and the other two farmers in the employee cottage next to the vineyard. Even with the company, it was still larger than the apartment Antonio was living in earlier, so he was very happy.

But the best part about living in that cute house was that as soon as the sun rose, Antonio only had to step outside, and he was in the best place on Earth. He loved waking up early and walking up and down the aisles and singing to each of the vines good morning.

And at dusk, he would take another walk before the light ran out and sing to each of them good night. Francis and Gilbert often told him how silly it was, and Antonio knew it might seem that way, but he liked to think that it made the plants happier.

After a long while, the familiar iron sign appeared around the corner and Antonio smiled excitedly. He was almost home now.

One he passed the sign, he knew it as only about ten minutes until he was back at the main house, and from there he could coast down the little dirt road to the vineyard and the gardener's house.

When he biked by the main house he glanced up at the grand wood and stone cabin and admired how elegant it looked. He had always wondered what it looked inside, but whenever Feli offered him in, Antonio had always been too dirty or too busy to accept. So all he could do was imagine what was inside the magnificent, three story building.

However, right now there was something different. Usually at this time, it was just Feli's room, the kitchen, the living room, and Tino's room (the housekeeper's room) lit at this time. But for some reason, one of the rooms to the very far left – the one with the little balcony that overlooks the vineyard, and the strong, unruly vine that wrapped around the iron railings – is lit tonight too.

Sometimes Feli had friends come over, so Antonio thought maybe another one came by. But they usually slept in the guest room on the right side nearer to Feli's and Tino's.

Antonio paused to stare at the house and wondered what was all alone on the left side. But he didn't stay for too long before he remembered what was waiting for him to do, and he continued biking away.

He noticed that the vine near that room was becoming a bit too wild. He'd have to trim that at some point.

~/~

"Toni," Berwald said and dropped his clippers to look at him.

Antonio parked his bike against the gardeners' house and skipped over; sliding on the gloves he kept in his back pocket as he did so.

"_Hola amigo_! Sorry I'm so late! Francis ended up wanting to talk for a lot longer than I expected," Antonio laughed, and didn't mind how Berwald's face never seemed to budge its serious stare. "Did you have any trouble?"

"Not much," Berwald muttered and plucked some of the leaves blocking the young grapes.

"Ah, that's good! Do you want me to start mowing?" Antonio started moving towards the shed.

"Kiku's 'n it."

"Oh," Antonio paused and looked at Berwald. Maybe he didn't need to rush back. "Um, well I guess I'll tie some of the new growths then."

"S'nds good," Berwald said and didn't notice Antonio skipping down the row of vines.

Antonio made it to the very end and turned around. Then slowly and meticulously, he inspected each vine and checked to see if there were any new growths sprouting. If he saw any, he would take one of the wire ties he kept in the pouch tied to his belt, and fix it to the fence. If he saw any leaves blocking the sun from the young grapes, he plucked them too, and then moved on. It wasn't a particularly exciting job, but it was necessary, and it needed to be done very, very often.

Once he was halfway down, he passed Berwald, but Berwald didn't say anything and kept moving past him with his clippers.

The rest of the afternoon went on like that, as it did most days. When Antonio was wandering around one of the later rows, he ran into Kiku – or rather, Kiku drove by on the tractor, dragging the lawnmower behind him. But Antonio was only able to exchange waves and a few words before Kiku was traveling down another aisle.

It was really peaceful at this time. The hum of the lawnmower was one of Antonio's favorite sounds. And now, as the sun was setting hazily near the horizon, the temperature was cool and fresh and the hard work seemed to slip away with the wind.

When the sound of the lawnmower stopped, Antonio knew it was almost time for the irrigation to turn on, so he wandered out of the vineyard and walked back to the house.

"_Hola amigos_!" Antonio announced, and Kiku and Berwald both stared at him from the wooden picnic table outside of the house.

"Hello Antonio. How was your visit with Francis?" Kiku asked politely and took a sip of his tea.

"It was good!" He replied and sat down on the bench across from them. "Francis seems pretty lonely though. I think he might need to go to town."

"I d'n't like town much," Berwald said and looked at Antonio.

Antonio laughed and replied, "Yeah, I don't really like it much either. I'd much rather be here with you two!"

Kiku smiled slightly and Berwald kept staring at him. At first, Antonio was a bit confused at how quiet his new coworkers were. Especially since his two best friends were as outspoken and talkative as him. But after a while, he got used to it, and it didn't seem as strange or awkward. Although Kiku said very little and Berwald said hardly anything at all – and what he did say was sometimes sort of odd – Antonio knew they were nice people. Just slightly bad at communication. That's all.

"Ah, there's Tino," Kiku said softly and both Berwald and Antonio turned towards the road that came down from the main house.

Tino was walking slightly unsteadily down the dirt path, as he tried to balance a full pitcher and a few plastic cups while not slipping.

Berwald silently stood from the table and met Tino halfway, taking the pitcher from his hands without a word and walking back to Antonio and Kiku.

"Oh, th-thank you Berwald!" Tino said with a nervous smile and continued walking with him to the table.

Berwald set the pitcher on the table and sat back down.

"I made some lemonade for you guys! I thought you guys must be pretty tired," Tino smiled nervously and Berwald began pouring everyone cups from the pitcher.

"_Gracias _Tino! That's so nice of you!" Antonio grinned and immediately gulped down the drink.

His lips puckered slightly at the tang of it, but he didn't have time to ask for sugar before Tino asked, "So, um, how do you guys like it? I've never actually made lemonade before. But since Feli keeps bringing lemons back from his trees, I thought I might as well do something with them."

Once again, Antonio was about to say it needed more sugar, but this time Berwald was the first to speak.

"It's g'd," Berwald muttered without looking at Tino, and finished the glass quickly.

"Really?" Tino's face brightened and he looked at Berwald excitedly. "Oh, that's great! I'll have to share with Feli and his brother then!"

"His brother?" Antonio asked and glanced in the direction of the house curiously.

"Oh yeah, you weren't here, but Feli's brother arrived today!" Tino said, and took the opportunity to sit down. Berwald insisted he sit next to him.

"Really? Will he come out and meet us or something?"

"Mm, I don't think so. As soon as he walked in the house he went straight to his room. I'm sure he's very tired from the flight."

"That's too bad," Antonio sighed and cupped his stubbled chin in his hand. "Feli talks about his brother all the time. I sort of wanted to meet him."

"Oh, I'm sure you will!" Tino said and smiled reassuringly. Then something occurred to him and he added a little less happily, "But, uh, he's not much like Feliciano."

"_Que_? What's he like then?"

"Well, he's a bit more…intimidating," Tino said carefully and looked back at the main house.

Antonio didn't say anything and just stared at the little balcony overlooking the vineyard and wondered how much more intimidating a brother of Feliciano's could be.

~/~

When the irrigation turned on, Tino said goodbye and turned towards the main house to help out with dinner. Feliciano always cooked dinner, but as the housekeeper Tino insisted he should at least help with that a little.

Kiku went inside the gardener's house to make dinner since it was his turn, and Berwald followed him to find some sugar for the lemonade. So Antonio was left alone on the picnic bench to watch the sun slowly disappear over the horizon. Since sunlight was growing sparse, Antonio decided to take his walk through the vineyard, so he stood up and started ambling down each row.

Softly he started to sing.

_Duermete mi niño _

_Que tengo que hacer _

_Lavar los pañales _

_Y hacer de comer_

_Este niño quiere _

_Que lo duerma yo _

_Duermalo su madre _

_Que ella lo encargo_

Antonio kept humming the tune as he finished walking, and stopped briefly to look out at the horizon.

_Si_. He couldn't imagine himself any happier than he was.

~/~

The next morning Antonio was the first to wake up, like he always was. He didn't bother to shower, and just stumbled to his dresser to wear his usual farming outfit. He buttoned a green shirt, slid on some worn and ripped jeans, and bent down to tuck the ends into his boots.

Antonio spent a quick few minutes washing his face and fixing his curly hair into a reasonable look, then walked out of the little house and into the vineyard.

The sun hadn't started to rise just yet, and there was only the slight hint of light reflecting through the thin clouds. Antonio took a deep breath of air, and with a smile he began walking down each row, singing softly as he went along.

He saw a few vines that needed trimming, so he stopped and removed the clippers he kept in his belt and hummed as he worked.

Then something crackled behind him, and Antonio turned around to see what it was.

He looked at the ground expecting to see a cat or a small animal, but instead he saw a very nice pair of shoes, standing in the other aisle. Antonio's eyes peered through the young leaves, travelling up the young man's body, until he met a pair of flashing gold-brown eyes staring back at him. At the moment the sun had already begun to shy over the horizon, and streams of bright, yellow light were dancing on the sides of the leaves. The light caught in those mysterious molten eyes, and Antonio couldn't remember seeing anything so warm before. Warm as the sun.

When it seemed like the man wasn't going to say anything, Antonio decided to speak up. "Um, _hola_!" He folded the clippers together and secured them back onto his belt. "My name's Antonio, I work here." He held his hand out through the gap in the vines and waited for the other to grasp it.

The young man looked at the dirty, gloved hand or a moment, and then crossed his arms protectively over his chest. "Lovino."

"Lovino? Is that your name?" Antonio asked and pulled his hand back to his side. He watched the man's slight nod, and grinned. "That's such a pretty name!"

Antonio watched with some fascination how Lovino's straight face quickly flushed in embarrassment, a hot blush blending with his olive skin. "It is not."

Antonio laughed in reply, and deftly ducked under the vines into the aisle where Lovino was standing. He wiped the curls away from his face, smudging dirt onto his forehead, and stood up straight to get a clear look at Lovino. He was slender and tan, and too well dressed to be loitering around in the earth.

"So…are you visiting?" Antonio asked. The sun was shining directly on Lovino's eyes, and they seemed so bright Antonio had to squint.

Lovino pursed his lips, almost in disapproval. "Sort of. But this is my house, so I wouldn't call it visiting."

"Oh," Antonio gasped, and the pieces fell together. "You're Feliciano's brother, aren't you? I guess you do look rather similar, it's funny I didn't notice." There definitely was something familiar in the features, but Lovino came across so much differently than Feliciano. Somewhat intimidating, as Tino said, but also mysteriously compelling. It made Antonio want to get closer.

Lovino's eyes remained unblinking, but his lips spread to a frown. "So Feli hired you?"

"_Si_, he did." Antonio smiled, and Lovino shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I've been working here for two months now. I was wondering when I'd meet you."

"Yeah, well," Lovino mumbled and scratched the back of his neck. "I travel a lot."

Antonio noticed Lovino kept all parts of himself as close as possible; he was very careful not to get too near Antonio.

"So, why are you up this early?" Lovino asked, breaking the silence. He didn't like how Antonio could stare endlessly at him.

The question shook Antonio from his daze and he brightened. "Oh, I always get up at this time. Just to check on the vines and take a walk. I like doing that."

Lovino pointed his chin at the ground as another blush warmed his skin.

"What are you doing up?" Antonio asked, and hoped Lovino would look at him again.

He didn't, and just continued shuffling the dirt on the ground. "I have jetlag. It's three in the afternoon in Italy."

"Ah," Antonio nodded his head in understanding, though it'd been so long since he travelled, he really couldn't empathize much. "Have you been out here long?"

Lovino's shoulders twitched and he gave Antonio a cursory glance before staring to the side. "Not really. I just wanted to get out before Feli would start dragging me around everywhere. He wants to show me the town since I didn't see it last time."

"Do you not like going to town?"

"I haven't seen it yet, so I wouldn't know," Lovino snapped quickly, his eyebrows cross and his skin glistening.

The sudden outburst caught Antonio by surprise, but somehow he didn't find it rude at all, and he laughed, a bit charmed actually. "You're so funny, Lovi!"

Lovino's eyes widened. "What'd you call me?"

"Lovi. Isn't it cute?" Antonio tilted his head and grinned.

"No."

"No?"

"No," Lovino deadpanned and he pressed his lips together stubbornly. "You just said you thought my name was pretty, why are you trying to fuck it up?"

Antonio's smile twisted in amusement, and he tried not to laugh again. "I just thought it'd be easier to give you a nickname. You can call me Toni if you like."

"Tsk," Lovino scoffed and ran his fingers through his neat, dark hair. "No way. You're lucky if I call you by your actual name."

"What does that mean?"

"That you're a bastard," Lovino said and turned on his heel. He started walking down the aisle back in the direction of the house.

Antonio giggled lightly under his breath and walked briskly to catch up. "Where are you going?"

"What's it to you?" Lovino replied and jumped when Antonio's arm grazed his shoulder. He glared at him and made an obvious show of creating a gap. "It's my vineyard, I can go where I like."

"Really? I thought it was family-owned."

Lovino bristled. "I'm family, aren't I?"

"Oh, _si_ of course. That makes sense," Antonio placated and gave what he hoped was an apologetic, reassuring smile.

It seemed to work, and Lovino's fingers unclenched from his palms. He gave a brief glance in Antonio's direction, startled to find him still staring, and coughed on his breath.

"Are you okay?" Antonio asked, and placed a hand lightly on Lovino's back.

"I'm fine!" Lovino said rapidly, and swatted Antonio's hand away. "Where are you going anyway?"

"I'm following you!~" Antonio announced gleefully, flashing a bright smile. Perhaps he enjoyed Lovino's blush too much, because already he felt a rush of accomplishment when it appeared again.

"Shit – I know that! But why? Don't you have work to do or something?" Lovino gestured with his hands, before twisting them together embarrassedly.

"Well, it's still early. We don't do the usual grooming and inspection until a little later. Berwald doesn't like getting up early," Antonio said with a short laugh. "And before that I like to take a look at Feli's garden."

"_Feli's garden_?" Lovino repeated skeptically and raised an eyebrow.

Finding himself caught, Antonio's eyes crinkled in a bashful grin. "Alright, maybe it's not entirely his. But he wanted some flowers in front of the house, and I love to garden, so I offered to make one up for him."

Lovino's lips turned up slightly. "Don't you do enough gardening?"

"Enough gardening? Why Lovi, there's no such thing!" Antonio gawked and raised a hand to chest playfully.

When he caught Lovino's quick smile, and the soft glitter to his eyes, Antonio's chest swelled. It gave him a strange sense of happiness. It made his stomach light and skin tingle in excitement.

But in another instant, Lovino bit his lip and fixed his gaze back on the ground. "You're an idiot."

Antonio sighed wistfully. "No, Lovino. I'm just a simple farmer."

"Well now I know you're an idiot." Lovino said and rolled his eyes.

At this point they were far up the road and only a few strides away from Feli's garden. It was young and green, with a few colorful buds tucked away between the leaves. Antonio's face lit up at the sight of it, his eyes attentive to all of the subtle growth and beauty. It made him proud.

Then on instinct, he turned his head to Lovino, desperate to see his reaction.

Lovino's gold eyes danced over the garden, and Antonio thought he could see a pleasant softness smooth his face. He'd hoped that's what he saw anyway.

But Lovino was quick to notice Antonio's searching stare, and quickly jerked his head forward and continued his walk to the house. "Don't get too cocky, bastard. I saw it yesterday."

It pulled slightly on Antonio's heart that Lovino walked away like that, but the biting words soothed him somehow, and he chuckled lightly. "Have fun in town, Lovi. I'll see you later!"

As he held open the large, front door, Lovino looked over his shoulder back at Antonio. His eyes were sharp and intent, as if he was trying to scare Antonio away, but just the thought made Antonio grin back defiantly, another laugh ready on his lips.

Lovino eyes widened, and a blush crept to his ears. "Yeah right!" He yelled and let the door shut solidly behind him.

It might've been rude, and slightly childish, but for some reason Antonio's stomach fluttered madly, and he laughed for no real reason. It took him a few minutes to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

~/~

A few hours later, the sun was high in the sky, everyone had long since arisen, and Lovino stood still by the kitchen window, the little hours of sleep finally edging away at him.

He was waiting for Feli to finish dressing so they could leave into town, and although last night he'd been dreading this, his encounter with Antonio made him want to leave now more than ever.

Lovino spotted the familiar tall, muscular figure talking to Kiku, and at once his eyes darted away from the glass. His fingers touched his warm cheeks, and he creased his eyebrows in worry. He didn't understand why he felt so strange. It was a dizzying, intoxicating feeling to be near Antonio, and for some reason it made him want to hide and never see the charming Spaniard again. Or let Antonio see him again.

Which is why he wanted to hurry out the door now. His heart has been buzzing since he first met those green eyes, and he just wanted to escape.

Finally, after an agonizing ten minutes of alternating periods of staring out the window and ducking away to another corner of the room, Feli's clumsy footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Lovino sighed in relief, and he stomped out of the kitchen.

"Vee~ sorry I'm late fratello! I had trouble deciding what to wear," Feli giggled and straightened his flowery button-down shirt.

Lovino shook his head and through the keys at him. "And that's the best you can do?"

"Oh," Feli gasped as he missed the catch and picked the keys up from the ground. "We're taking my car?"

"I figured my motorcycle might get a bit uncomfortable after the fifth store you shop at."

Feli smiled shyly and followed Lovino downstairs to the garage. Their grandfather had bought them each the vehicle of their choice when they relocated to California to run the small branch of the brand, and while Feli decided on a yellow American T-bird convertible (because he saw them in the movies and they seemed so cute), Lovino opted for a classically Italian, black Ducati motorcycle. It might be his most prized possession.

He ran his hand over the shiny metal before resigning to joining Feli in the bright, happy car. Feli pressed a remote button he kept on the dashboard and the garage door lifted; and it wasn't too soon until the T-bird was flying out the driveway, and onto the main road that led away from the vineyards and towards town.

Lovino exhaled freely on the open road. The strange pinches that tormented his heart this morning seized, and he tried to forget the rough, earthy Spaniard, and the dazzling green eyes that seemed wait on his every word.

"Feli," Lovino closed his eyes in frustration, but tried to keep his voice careless. "Why'd you hire that Spaniard?"

"Oh, you mean Toni? You already met him? That's great! I was wondering how I'd introduce you two," Feli babbled happily. He caught his brother's scowl and blinked in confusion. "Do you not like him?"

Lovino turned towards the window and savored the rushing wind. He wanted it to wipe away all of the electricity, all of the heat. He wanted to be cold.

"Lovi?" Feli glanced at his brother again.

Lovino closed his eyes and focused on the breeze. What did he think of the Antonio?

"He's a bastard."

* * *

~/~

* * *

_*Tesoro mio - a term of endearment that literally means "my treasure" in Italian and Spanish. Calling someone "tesoro" is similar to calling someone "sweetheart" or "darling." _

_*Tesoro - the Vargas wine brand. Based in Verona, with branches in Piedmont, Sicily, and Napa Valley, California. Their most famous wine is their Valpolicella - a red wine - made from Corvina Veronese, Rondinella and Molinara grapes._

_*The poem at the beginning is "A Drinking Song" by William Butler Yeats._

_I'm planning on making these updates somewhere along the lines of biweekly. Hopefully that'll work well. Thank you so much for reading! Please review. :)_


	2. Chapter Two: Airén

_Yeah, this fic is like my new shiny toy I can't wait to write for, so it may end up being updated more than twice a week, haha. But that's always a good thing, right? _

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_Airén – a Spanish white wine grape variety. The best are scented like fresh roses and mature fruit, with a fine harmonious taste._

~/~

For Antonio the sun has always had a soothing presence: the heat comforted him, made him feel relaxed and calm. And Californian afternoons were so often dominated by the bright, hazy sun, that it was tempting to lay down and bask in the serenity of the quiet day for an hour or two. Antonio did that quite regularly. There was a lemon tree on the hill between the main house and the gardeners', separate from the little road, that Antonio liked to lay near. He would never be found under the shade, always a small ways away from it.

Berwald and Kiku took a break at this time too, but they chose to lay down indoors and bask close to the air conditioner. Berwald especially.

But around four, as Antonio hovered between light sleep, and a drowsy awareness, he heard the gentle hum of a motor approach. Usually he'd think little of it and continue brushing the grass with his fingers, but this time he opened his eyes to one exciting thought. Lovino was back.

Slowly, with squinting, blinking eyes Antonio sat up and twisted his torso around to get a better look. The happy, yellow T-bird was rolling into the driveway. Feli's side was facing Antonio.

"Oh, Toni!" Feli exclaimed gleefully. He paused the car before it's decent into the garage and waved. "Vee~ how are you? Were you taking a siesta?"

Antonio laughed easily. It was like breathing to him. "_Si_, I was. It's a wonderful time of the day to sleep."

"That's probably true," Feli laughed and lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head. "You and Lovi had the same idea."

Antonio's grin broadened, and his eyes glinted in excitement. But he tried to talk a bit quieter. "Is he really asleep?"

Feli nodded. "_Si_, he is. It's probably the jetlag. He fell asleep as soon as we sat back down in the car." Feli gestured to the back seat, and Antonio could make out Lovino's figure sprawled out over the seats, his legs folded near his chest.

Without his eyes open and flashing, Antonio thought Lovino looked so small and vulnerable. It was such a funny change, it made Antonio smirk in amusement.

"Oh, Toni before I forget," Feli said quickly, and raised his hand to catch Antonio's attention. "I was thinking we could finally have a dinner together, since everyone's here now. Maybe sometime later this week?"

"Of course," Antonio replied easily. It could've been tonight and he'd say yes.

Feli smiled. "Great! I'll have Tino stop by to ask what you guy would like to eat, so I can start planning. _Arrivederci_!" Feli waved his hand again before driving the car slowly into the dark garage. The door shut behind him and Antonio laid back down on the grass.

It was strange for him to want anything more than working and farming, but Antonio couldn't deny it. He really wanted to see Lovino again. For once, he felt oddly…lonely.

~/~

The rest of the day passed, and Lovino never emerged from the house. Frequently, Antonio found himself glancing over, watching the top room with the balcony – which could only be Lovi's – and wondered what he was doing. Antonio typically went to bed rather early since he awoke before dawn, but before he walked indoors he over his shoulder, and somewhere on the hazy backlit balcony, he caught a familiar figure fleeing as quickly as he saw him.

Antonio smiled, and slipped into the house.

~/~

He didn't meet Lovino the next morning, sneaking around in the vineyards like part of him expected; but when the sun peered over the horizon, Antonio heard a low roar in the background. He looked back at the main house and saw someone driving away on a motorcycle, starkly black against the fertile hills.

The face was hidden by the helmet, and much too far away, but there was no possible way Feliciano would be driving a motorcycle, or Tino for that matter. It could only be Lovino.

Antonio left the vineyard for Feli's garden, and spent an hour weeding and preening the plants when there was no real need to. He hoped Lovino would stop by on his way to the garage, but there was no sign of him at all. It was only several hours later, when Antonio was taking his lunch break with Berwald and Kiku did the motorcycle appear again. And just as soon as it came, it vanished into the garage.

"So what day did you say Feli was thinking about for dinner?" Kiku asked as he held out his agenda. For a farmer, his days were always surprisingly full.

Antonio pushed his sandwich away, not very hungry at the moment. "He didn't say really. Just later this week sometime."

"Was th're a day you had in m'nd?" Berwald stared at Kiku, the reflection in his glasses a bit blinding.

Kiku squinted and turned away. "Ah, well. I'm rather busy this week, so the only night that would work for me would be Sunday."

Four days from now. That was Antonio's day off, but he had nothing planned, and Gilbert or Francis hadn't said anything yet. "That's fine with me, _amigo_. I don't really care when."

"It's fine with me," Berwald added. But Antonio couldn't remember the last time Berwald left the vineyard, so it wasn't much of a surprise. "I'll tell Tino l'ter."

Antonio and Kiku stared at him. They'd still yet to understand the relationship between those two. It seemed a bit fearful on Tino's side, and blank on Berwald's, and overall very confusing.

~/~

"Lovi?"

Lovino looked away from the window, a bit startled. "What?"

"Do you still want to go riding with me today?" Feli asked, and Lovino finally noticed the beige breeches and shiny black boots.

That's right. Feliciano told him that their neighbor invited them to go riding. It seemed like a strange offer to Lovino, since Francis was a competing winemaker; but Feli said he'd heard it was a lot of fun and that many other of Francis's friends joined in when it was held. Of course, Lovino didn't believe or care for a word of that. He'd only flippantly told Feli he'd go after he found out Antonio was coming for dinner on Sunday. Today was Sunday, and if spending the day galloping on some stranger's property meant delaying the company of the strange, Spanish farmer, than so be it. Lovino was running out of excuses to run away from the property anyway.

"Yeah, yeah," Lovino drawled and left his post by the window. "Just let me grab my boots and we can go."

"Vee~ okay!" Feli smiled, obviously relieved to have company. "I'm a bit nervous actually. It's been so long since I've been on a horse."

"It'll be fine. I'll help out," Lovino reassured him and plucked his black boots from the pantry.

Feli skipped to his side and jangled his car keys. "But you haven't been on horse longer than I have."

"Shit – that's not true!" Lovino replied quickly. "A-and even if it's been a while, I was always better at it than you, so…there." He stuffed his feet into the boots and stood up with a stomp. "Whatever, let's just go."

"Okay!~"

~/~

The drive over was quiet, soothing. Lovino was comforted again by the breeze, and was secretly so thankful that Feli bought a convertible. He loved his motorcycle for the same reason, but when he was a passenger, he was at least able to look at the surroundings – the horizon, the vineyards, the elegant houses – and not think about driving, or the business, or grandpa, or the damn Spaniard.

"Look _fratello_! Those are some of Francis's vineyards! Aren't they pretty?" Feli exclaimed and pointed to his left.

Lovino followed the gesture and gawked at the sight. "Fuck, it looks like he owns half of the neighborhood!"

Feliciano laughed lightly. "He kind of does. But his brand is much older than ours so they've had more time to expand."

"Yeah, I guess. But still – is all of that really necessary? I swear this guy's going to have a big ego," Lovino rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the other side. Except he caught a fanciful, rather Parisian looking, iron gate with the script: _Jeanne d'Arc Vignoble_.

"We're here!" Feliciano announced as he swung the car dramatically to the right, into the extravagant driveway, stopping right before the gate. He leaned over his side of the door and waited for the speaker.

_"Hello, do you have an appointment with Monsieur Bonnefoy?"_

"_Si_! We're from the _Tesoro_ vineyard. We were invited for brunch and riding.~"

_"Alright. Drive straight ahead and stop in the horseshoe. Someone will park your car for you."_

The gate opened dramatically, and Lovino couldn't help but mutter "arrogant son of a bitch" under his breath. Feli seemed rather enthused about the whole thing, and babbled to Lovino how they should get a grand gate and a speaker, and hire some fancily dressed servants like the ones waiting for them at the horseshoe.

Feliciano parked the car, and both of them grabbed their things and got out. One of the men asked if he could park their car and Feliciano said, "_Si!_ _Grazie signore_!"

Lovino in the meantime was handed a glass of champagne, which the other servant assured him was an example of _Jeanne d'Arc's_ finest quality champagne, made from their Californian grown Pinot noir, Pinot Meunier, and white Chardonnay.

Lovino took the glass hesitantly, and remembering his sass he muttered, "Well, what else would it be fucking made from?" Then he walked through the open front door, swallowing the entire contents of the glass in a single gulp and depositing it on the empty tray another man held indoors.

In a moment, Feliciano was at his side again, and he cooed, "Wow, this champagne is so tasty! I love it! What did you think of yours Lovi? Oh, well since you drank it so quickly, you must have liked it."

"Why of course! No one has tasted my champagne and resisted me for long."

Feliciano and Lovino turned in the direction of the suave French accent, and saw a slender, well-dressed man in classic riding attire, with golden blond hair tied neatly in a ponytail and dark blue eyes that examined them from head to toe in a moment. Immediately, Lovino stiffened and felt the need to hide. He couldn't obviously, so he settled for crossing his arms across his chest, but he still felt as though the Frenchman was undressing them with his eyes.

"You two must be the little Italians," he said smoothly and advanced closer so that Lovino coughed on the overwhelming scent of roses and musk. "_Bonjour_, I am the one and only, Francis Bonnefoy. You're neighbor, your friend, and wine connoisseur extraordinaire." He grasped Feli's hand to shake and winked in Lovino's direction. "And I'm also an excellent lover, if you're interested."

Lovino bristled, and his face flushed in embarrassment and anger. "Who'd be interested in a creep like you?"

"_Honhonhon~_ a lot more people than you think," Francis smiled, and Feli giggled in amusement. "But where are my manners? I haven't even asked your names. So which one are you _mon cher_?"

"I'm Feliciano, but you can call me Feli. And that's my fratello Lovi, but he –"

"It's Lovino to you." Lovino interrupted with a scowl.

Francis seemed unfazed by the aggression, and simply pressed his lips together in a smaller smirk. "Of course, _mon chaton_. Aren't you a feisty one! I think you'd get along splendidly with a dear friend of mine. Shall I introduce you?" Francis waved his hand in the direction of the outdoor patio.

Feli nodded his excitement, and Lovino sighed. "If it gets me away from you," he grumbled and shuffled side by side with Feli after Francis.

On the patio was a pleasant buffet table, over of course, a starch white tablecloth. There were a few people loitering, talking to each other, most of them holding glasses, but not all were dressed for riding.

"_Bonjour_ Emma, Michelle, Eliza," Francis purred as he led the brothers to a small circle of women. "I'd like you to meet the new managers of the _Tesoro_ vineyard. Lovino and Feliciano."

At once, Lovino felt his nerves rest at ease. They were three pretty women.

Only one of them was dressed for riding. She was rather slender and tan-skinned, with dark hair in pigtails. She looked at Lovino and smiled.

"_Bonjour_! I'm Francis's cousin, Michelle," she extended her hand and Lovino took it. "I'm only passing through on my way to a competition."

"Oh!~ A competition? For what?" Feliciano asked curiously.

Francis grasped Michelle's shoulder and looked away dramatically. "My darling cousin is a championess show hunter. She was a prodigy in France, and since she moved to California she has blossomed into a goddess. No one can surpass her."

"You ride horses for competition! That's so cool! Is your horse here?" Feliciano gushed and Michelle laughed as she removed herself from Francis's embrace.

"My cousin exaggerates. But yes, I do compete. And my horse is here too. Her name is Victoria."

Lovino nodded and noticed one of the other girls was watching him. She was wearing a fanciful, white dress with her crisp, blonde hair down in a neat bob.

"Lovino," she said warmly, and Lovino took her hand. "I'm Emma. My brother and I own a nursery in town. I think I saw you the other day."

"Really?" Lovino scrunched his eyebrows together.

Emma smiled coyly. "Your car was parked in front of our building. I saw you fall asleep in the backseat."

Lovino flushed lightly. "Oh, yeah. I had pretty bad jetlag."

"That's so cute," she cooed and squeezed Lovino's arm. "You should come back to town when you feel up for it. I could show you a lot of beautiful places."

Her touch was gentle and reassuring. Lovino's heart didn't stir, his skin didn't burn, he felt happy, calm, and in control.

So he met her pale, green eyes – not at all electrifying, just simple and sweet – and smiled.

"I would love that," he said.

~/~

A little later, after the rest of the small party had arrived and talked for a reasonable amount of time, Francis called his stable to have the horses ready and saddled.

"Feliciano, Lovino," he called with his hand over the phone. "What sort of horses would you like?"

The brothers looked at each other. Feli's eyes were timid and pleading, so Lovino decided to take charge.

"Feli needs an old horse. He hasn't ridden in a long time," he replied casually and brushed some of his hair back in place. "I'll be fine with whatever."

Emma giggled, and Francis's eyes glinted in amusement. Lovino tried to ignore the latter.

"So you and Feli used to ride? That's wonderful," Michelle gushed and plucked another _hors d'oeuvre_ from the silver platter.

Feliciano opened his mouth to speak, but Lovino promptly stepped on his foot. He didn't want them to look like fools in front of strangers. Especially female strangers he wanted to impress.

Michelle didn't notice anything and grabbed another bruschetta. "Oh, this is so good! I love visiting Francis, if only for his food!"

"It is pretty good," Feliciano complimented, having cleared just as many.

Lovino shrugged his shoulders dismissively and Emma smiled.

"The fact that Roderich likes it is compliment enough," Eliza said and rolled her eyes. "That priss is such a diva. I swear to god."

"Eliza, I really don't think you should talk about your husband that way," Emma laughed lightly.

"Oh please. I married him so I could talk about him any way I goddamn please." She caught Feliciano and Lovino's expressions and clarified, "My husband – Roderich – he's a food and wine critic. Which basically gives him an excuse to keep acting like a priss, since it pays him. Well." She shook her head. "He writes for the magazine _Ambrosia_, have you heard of it?"

"Oh," Feliciano gasped, but before he could gush, Lovino stepped on his foot again, and he whined.

"No," Lovino interrupted quickly. "We haven't heard of it."

Michelle kept eating happily, but Elizaveta and Emma stared at them a bit perplexed.

Lovino added another smile, as cavalier as he could make it, and added, "But I'd love to hear more about it, you and your husband should come over for dinner sometime."

Elizaveta's face brightened, very pleased with the flirtatious gesture, and she nodded.

Lovino's chest swelled in triumph, and he made sure to give Feliciano one last warning glass before taking a sip of his champagne. _Ambrosia_? Heard of it? Of course they'd heard of it. Lovino had to hear about it several times a day from his grandfather. It was the key to fame in the states. And _Tesoro_, though it was prized and revered in Italy, it hadn't yet made successful splash in the states. They needed some sort of publicity, and a review in a praised food and wine magazine was a promising first step.

But if Feliciano had gone ahead and babbled about how much he adored their magazine, and how much he wanted their wine to be in it, that would make their brand seem desperate and needy. And though it pricks Lovino's skin to admit it, they are desperate; but at least Lovino had the common sense to act like they weren't.

"_Bonjour mes amis_," Francis called as he swayed to the table. "I'm happy to announce that the horses are ready. Alfred and Arthur have already gone ahead, sprinting very fast I might add. Though it could've been Alfred running away from Arthur, I'm not entirely certain."

Michelle stuffed two last _hors d'oeuvres_ in her mouth and got up in a hurry. She tried to say something, though with her mouthful, it only sounded like a muffled, "_Mmf' mready f'r you Mictoria_."

Francis sighed. "Michelle, you don't have to be so hungry. I promise there's more food where that came from." She waved at him and he shook his head in exasperation. "_Mon dieu_, I think America has made her starving. How _tragique_."

"Have fun with the horses Feli! You too Lovi!" Elizaveta called.

Lovino twitched at the sound of that irritating nickname, but since it was a beautiful woman with some advantageous connections, he shrugged it off and threw another devilish smile.

"Be sure to watch us, 'kay?~" Feli winked, and laughed childishly.

Lovino rolled his eyes, and pulled his brother along.

"Be careful, alright?" Emma shouted after them. Randomly, Lovino had the instinct to look over his shoulder. She blew a kiss at him.

He didn't even feel it.

~/~

Francis's stable was grand. It was as magnificently decorated as the rest of his property, so it didn't come as a complete shock, but it was so much larger than the stable Lovino and Feliciano had in Verona. This must have kept more than thirty horses.

"Not all of them are mine," Francis explained as he led the trio into the stables. Lovino's nose wrinkled at the smell. "Alfred and Arthur keep their horses here because they don't have room. Alfred has three. And then my farmers each have horses, and well, I have this beautiful stable, I thought I might as well use it."

Lovino glanced nervously at a horse. It was tall. Very tall. Are all horses like that? Did he really used to ride them? It seems so hard to believe now.

He looked at Feliciano and saw he was marveling over all of the horses excitedly.

Great.

"Victoria!" Michelle yelled, and some of the other horses shifted their positions. It made Lovino jump.

She half-ran, half-walked in front of Francis and met a tall, dark-brown mare standing still outside of the stall. There was someone on the other side adjusting the saddle, but between the shade and the distance, his face was obscure.

After Michelle nuzzled with her horse for a good ten seconds she looked on the other side and said, "Oh Toni, she looks so happy! You're so good with horses, you know that?"

Lovino's heart stuttered, but he thought – _he hoped_ – he misheard, or perhaps it was a different person. But then he heard him laugh, that carefree, earthy laugh, and Lovino's breath caught.

Feli looked at him worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Lovino choked and forced himself to keep walking. He had to keep walking.

Antonio appeared from around the horse. His eyes didn't find Lovino's at first, they were admiring the mare and acknowledging Michelle, sparkling a dark, vibrant green. But Lovino didn't miss him for a second. All he could see was Antonio.

The eyes. The hair. The skin. Even the irritating way he was dressed with a half-buttoned shirt and dirty, torn jeans. Part of Lovino wanted to stomp over there and finish the rest of the goddamn buttons, but another, more frightening part of him wanted to finish taking the shirt off.

Francis said something, Lovino didn't hear; all he did was see when Antonio's eyes finally met his, and memorize the way Antonio's smile broadened even more when it happened. It was so painful, like someone suddenly grabbed his heart with sharp nails and set his skin on fire.

At some point, Antonio's smile started moving. Lovino watched his lips. Then he realized that Antonio was saying something and he cursed at himself.

"What is that?" Antonio asked, and Feli joined him in looking at Lovino curiously.

Lovino kept his gaze on the floor as he tried to regain his composure. "Nothing," he mumbled.

It was silent, but Lovino could feel Antonio smile in the air. It made his ears redden.

"So Feli, I have your horse ready for you! You're taking Alfred's oldest horse, Washington." Antonio's voice seemed easy and pleasant, and Lovino exhaled in relief.

He dared to look up and saw Antonio was looking at him again.

"What is it, bastard?" He blurted, fear widening his eyes.

Antonio leaned over, mischief dancing in his eyes. "You're in the way."

Lovino didn't blink, didn't breathe.

"I need to get to the horse behind you," Antonio finished, watching Lovino carefully.

"Oh," Lovino gasped and another wave of heat colored his cheeks. He dove to the side without another word and stood cautiously next to Feliciano. Almost hiding behind him.

Antonio continued opening the stall. Inside was a grey, old horse, a bit smaller than the average. Antonio pet his nose and whispered some soft, Spanish words, then he gently led the horse out of the stall and in front of Feliciano.

"This is Washington," Antonio said and gestured for Feliciano to pet him. "He's seventeen years old and very friendly. If you don't really know what to do, he'll lead you along."

"Vee~ He's so cute! And not scary at all! How do I jump on top of him?" Feli hopped to the side and hovered near the saddle.

"Place your foot in the stirrup," Antonio said, and followed Feli as he did so. "Then just swing your other leg over."

And just as he said, in one swift motion, Feli fixed himself on top of the horse, sliding his right boot into the other stirrup. Antonio handed him the reigns and a few tips how to hold them.

Francis returned to the group on his white stallion. "Feli, _mon cher_, how about I go along with you to help you out, and Lovino can join us later. Antonio can show him the way."

Lovino stared wildly at Feliciano, praying his brother would understand and not go, not leave him like this, not _with him_.

But Feli hardly paid attention; he was too distracted by the horses. "Okay, sounds good!"

Francis smiled and waved his hand. "_Fantastique_! I'll see you later Toni! Onward Napoleon!"

He trotted out of the stable, and Feliciano's old horse morosely followed.

Lovino watched them for as long as he could, refusing to acknowledge the situation he had gotten himself into. The only reason he willingly went along with Francis's invitation is because Antonio wasn't supposed to be here.

"So Lovi," Antonio's voice broke the silence, and Lovino jolted upright when he realized how close they were standing. Antonio smiled easily and said, "What are you doing here?"

Lovino gawked at him, frustration slowly gravitating to his features. "Wh-what am I doing here? I was invited! What about you? Do you double as that bastard's stable boy?"

Antonio's smile twisted in amusement. "Stable boy?"

Lovino blushed in embarrassment. "Fuck – er, no. Well…damn it. Yes! You're in a stable, aren't you? And a stable that belongs to that guy so," Lovino trailed off, feeling less and less confident under Antonio's relentless smile. He gritted his teeth and shouted, "Damn it, just get my fucking horse, bastard!"

Antonio laughed and brushed past Lovino's shoulder. "I'm just here to help Francis out. His usual stable boy," Antonio paused to looked over his shoulder and Lovino scowled. "He's sick, and I'm the only other one who's as comfortable with the horses. Besides, I don't have anything to do until dinner today, so I figured why not?"

"Idiot," Lovino muttered as he followed a few steps behind.

Antonio stopped in front of a stall and grinned. "But I'm happy I came! This is the first time I've talked to you in…three days? Four?"

"Five," Lovino deadpanned. He knew, because it'd been torture finding ways to escape. He began writing a countdown to his return back to Italy.

Antonio chuckled easily, as if he just remembered. "Oh, you're right. Five. But today will make up for it. We get to spend the day and night together!"

Lovino flushed and the instinct to yell at the poor, insinuating choice of words rung in his head. But he thought he caught a glimpse of a baited smile, so he swallowed the words back down and looked away.

"So what horse am I getting?" Lovino asked, his voice less angry as it was tense.

"Ah," Antonio moved to the side so the white mare was in full view. "I was thinking Marie Antoinette. She's another of Francis's, obviously." He laughed and looked at Lovino's face. "Are you okay?"

"She's big."

"She's a horse." Antonio's eyes flew over Lovino's face: fear was written all over it.

"She looks…" Lovino edited himself from saying something stupid, like _scary_ or _mean_. "Difficult."

Antonio opened his mouth to say something. Ask something. But Lovino's face was so vulnerable, he already knew.

"Well, she does take after Francis, so maybe she isn't the type for you," he deterred quickly and gently nudged Lovino in another direction. "I think I'll give you Rosalita."

They stopped at a stall across the ways, and inside was a chocolate brown horse with a black mane. She was muscular and large, but there was something softer about her – rounder – and it made her seem less intimidating.

Antonio opened the gate and led Rosalita outside, stopping her in front of Lovino.

Lovino held his hand out to pet her, but had second thoughts and pulled it back to his chest.

"You can pet her. She's very nice," Antonio insisted as he ran his hands over her neck.

Lovino glanced at him then back at the horse, into the large, dark eyes. He led his hand out again and gently, softly, grazed his fingertips over the nose. "Oh," he hummed, and unconsciously smiled at the touch.

When he realized Antonio was still standing there, only a foot away, watching him, Lovino retracted his hand and glared.

"S-so what now?"

"You get on!" Antonio exclaimed and pointed to the saddle.

Lovino gulped. Feliciano made it look so easy, but it really has been such a long time. "O-kay…"

"Don't be afraid, Lovi. I'll help you," Antonio reassured, and guided Lovino's boot into the stirrup.

Lovino would've pushed him away, but the guidance felt so forceful and kind, he reluctantly kept quiet and let Antonio hold his waist. His hands were strong and steady, and Lovino depended on them.

"Now just swing your other leg over," Antonio said, holding Lovino's leg steady with one hand and the horse with the other.

Lovino did it, albeit a bit clumsier than Feliciano, and suddenly he was sitting on top of the horse. He felt so high off the ground; he couldn't even see the horses hooves.

"Good job, Lovi," Antonio complimented, and Lovino blushed. It was too small of a feat to be praised.

Then, Antonio placed the reigns in Lovino's hands, their skin brushing in the movement. It felt like static, but it lingered. Even after Antonio retrieved his hand, Lovino felt it. When did he become so sensitive to these things?

"So, Rosalita's very calm. She'll know what to do. Just hold her reigns slack like this, and pull them right, left depending. I'll go with you to help you out, so just wait here while I grab Marie." Antonio gave him one last even look, obviously scanning his expression.

When he was satisfied he turned on his heel and skipped back to Marie's stall. Lovino shifted on the horse, unsure of what to do. It really did bother him he couldn't see the horse's hooves. How was she standing up? Her stomach was so big…oh.

"Antonio," Lovino called, alight annoyance seeping in his tone.

"_Si_!"

"Did you give me a pregnant horse?"

There was some laughter, which made Lovino flush a shade darker – he didn't know if it was from anger or something else – then Antonio was leading Marie out, looking very pleased.

"You did, didn't you?" Lovino accused and grumbled to himself. Damn it, he didn't want to ride a pregnant horse. That's so…not manly. And weird, right? Doesn't it hurt the horse? The thought occurred to him and he blurted, "I-I'm not hurting her, am I?"

Antonio's eyes twinkled mysteriously, and he smiled. "No, you won't. Don't worry. It actually helps. And Rosalita's a strong horse." Antonio jumped onto Marie easily, and Lovino forced himself to look away unimpressed.

"She's your horse isn't she?"

"Maybe!~"

Lovino sighed.

~/~

"Is this your first time on a horse, Lovi?"

"_Tsk_ – Are you trying to make fun of me?"

"No, of course not. But if you're nervous, you can talk to me and I can –"

"Well, I have ridden horses before. So there…bastard."

"Oh, I see."

"Yeah."

…

"Has it been a long time?"

"Wh-what?"

"You're holding the reigns really tightly. You also look really pale. Aw, I've never seen you pale before.~ Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! I just can't see the fucking ground over your horse's huge stomach! Are you sure she's not going to like – tip over or something?"

"I'm very sure."

"Stop laughing, goddamn it! I'm serious!"

"I'm always serious, Lovi."

"No, you're not. You're never serious. And you're still laughing, bastard."

"Sorry, haha.~ I'm sorry. I-I'll stop. I promise."

"I don't trust your promises."

"Loosen the reigns some more."

"Shit."

…

"So, why'd you come if you didn't want to ride a horse?"

"Wh-who said I didn't want to ride a horse? I'm doing it, aren't I?"

"…I guess."

"Jerk."

…

"I mean, I ride a fucking motorcycle, why the hell can't I ride a horse?"

"_Fusosososo!~_"

"What? What did I fucking say? It's true! I'd like to see your clumsy ass get on my motorcycle. You'd take a hardass fall the first ten meters. I know it."

"I ride a bicycle. A motorcycle can't be so different.~"

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"I would never make fun of you, Lovi."

"Bullshit."

~/~

Eventually, Antonio and Lovino reached the others. Francis was giving Feliciano a tour of his vineyard, and pointing out his different varieties of grapes. Alfred and Arthur were around too, and Feliciano happily chatted with them as well. They owned a veterinary practice in town. Alfred specialized in large animals, so he visited Francis's plantation and the ranches nearby very often, whereas Arthur kept to town and worked on smaller, domestic animals.

Lovino hung a few ways back. He didn't know what to think of Arthur and Alfred. They talked a lot, and tried to reel him into a conversation, but Lovino gave short, curt answers and tried to stay clear. It didn't seem to matter much since Alfred and Arthur were clearly more invested in themselves anyway.

Antonio held back too, and made sure to ride side by side with Lovino, occasionally making more small talk, and more often giving riding tips. At every hill and dip, Lovino stiffened, trying to hold onto Rosalita tighter, incidentally sparking her into a gallop; and Antonio would appear at his side, calmly giving orders and cooing Rosalita in whispers and rolling "r"s. Lovino would blush and curse, but he couldn't help but relax at the help.

There were also silences that fell between them. Lovino thought he liked those better, because at least he didn't have to defend himself to a nosy Spaniard, but it might've been worse. The silence just made Lovino notice more. He heard the rhythmic clomping of the hooves, the drawling conversations of horses and grapes, Rosalita's breathing, Marie's breathing, the clicking of Antonio's tongue. And from the corner of his eyes he watched Antonio's straight back, in perfect posture, flexing in motion, and his lips alternating variably from a slight smile to a broad grin.

Sometimes Lovino caught Antonio staring at him, and he didn't know what to do. His first reaction was to kick Rosalita into a fast gallop away, but somehow he couldn't and he ended up just staring back for a few moments. It was awkward eye contact, but it felt…friendly. Antonio smiled his perfect, tender smile and Lovino could sense the stupid, kind words floating around his head.

Lovino kept a scowl, but secretly, his heart raced.

~/~

"Thank you so much for everything, Francis! It was so much fun!"

"It was no problem at all, _mon cher_. It is me who should be thank you. For saving me from another wistful, dreamy day, locked away in my tower."

Lovino rolled his eyes at the two of them, and looked down at Antonio.

"It's okay, Lovi. Just swing your leg over, and slowly slide down," he said smoothly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

And perhaps it is. Lovino was just a bit frightened. He didn't know if he was more worried about hitting Rosalita's stomach or hitting the ground.

"O-kay," Lovino mumbled hesitantly, and began the process. He pulled his right foot out of the stirrup and slid it back over the back. He tried to lower his leg slowly, but he miscalculated, and suddenly he felt his leg slip.

There was a quick "shit" followed by a harsh gasp, and Feliciano and Francis turned around only to see Lovino held firmly in the arms of Antonio.

"_Ohonhon_, what happened here?" Francis asked with a sly smile.

Lovino opened his eyes, and realized where he was. His back pressed against Antonio's chest, with strong arms wrapped around his waist, and warm breath brushing against his ear.

His cheeks flushed. He felt so warm. So incredibly warm. Antonio's skin burned, his skin burned; all his senses buzzed and it felt strange, it felt frightening, it felt…wrong.

Antonio chuckled lightly, and suddenly Lovino remembered what to do.

"B-bastard! Get the hell off of me! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lovino shouted and unwrapped himself from Antonio's grip with shaky hands.

Antonio blinked, and his laugh faded into confusion. But before he could say anything, Feliciano intervened, "Vee~ Francis, you should have dinner with us tonight! Lovino and I are having dinner with our farmers, so you should come too! It'd be fun!"

"Me, having dinner with someone like Antonio? It would be an honor," Francis replied jokingly, but his eyes glittered in appreciation. "Shall it be my wine or yours?"

"Ours, of course," Lovino said evenly. When he noticed Antonio was still watching him, he grabbed Feliciano's hand and yelled, "We're going bastard, but if you bother coming, dinner starts at seven sharp."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Feliciano peered over his shoulder and waved cheerfully. Then he looked back at his brother. "Lovi, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Lovino bit his lip. Everything hurt. "No, I just…I just don't like being around Antonio. I didn't think he'd be here."

"Oh," Feliciano said and kept his eyes fixed on his brother's expression.

Lovino was worried he might ask more, but he didn't, and when he resumed gushing about Francis's property, Lovino sighed in relief.

~/~

Before seven o' clock, Francis's red Jaguar was turning into the driveway, Antonio's bike attached oddly to the back.

"You really didn't need to drive me Francis. I would've been happy to bike back," Antonio said for the fifth time, nervously adjusting the sleeves of his starch white button-down.

Francis rolled his eyes. "_Mon cher_, I don't mind driving you back. I have a car, and you're my friend. Also, since I'm so kindly letting you borrow some of my nicer clothes, I'd rather you not exercise in them." Francis stopped the car and shifted it into park.

"Oh, well," Antonio laughed and scratched his head. "I guess you're right."

"And stop messing with your hair. I only just managed to tame that," Francis ordered, surprisingly strict. "I rarely get a chance to see you in anything but ratty jeans and faded shirts. Try to behave for one night. You used to dress up on a regular basis, you know."

Antonio's shoulders stiffened and he pressed his lips together. "I know, but I don't – I don't like it." He unbuttoned his collar three loops. "It doesn't suit me."

"Well, _mon dieu_, of course I know that. But you should at least remember how to be gentlemanly when you need to be," Francis said as he propped the door open. He caught Antonio's solemn face and added, "It would impress little Lovino if you did."

Antonio's eyes went wide, and even with the tan, Francis caught a faint blush appear on his cheeks. "Wh-why would I try to impress Lovino?"

Francis smiled knowingly, and Antonio gulped in fear. He didn't understand why, or well, he thought he knew a reason, but the way Francis looked at him, it made him feel very mistaken. And very nervous.

"Come on _mon cher_, we don't want to keep the Italians waiting," Francis chuckled and stepped out of the car.

Antonio blinked from his reverie and followed suit, still continuously readjusting and fixing the new shirt, and the clean, tailored pants.

The doorbell only had to ring once, and suddenly it was swung open. Tino was standing in the doorway, pale blue apron cinched over his light sweater and pants.

He smiled brightly. "Ah, there you are! Everyone else is already here. Feli and Lovino were getting hungry."

"_Excusez-moi_! I'm afraid it took some time to wrangle Toni into something presentable," Francis said easily as he sashayed into the house.

Antonio stumbled behind him, suddenly more excited about seeing the house than anxious about the dinner. It really was as beautiful on the inside. It was more modern than he expected – the outside made it look rather rustic – but there was still plenty of shiny wood and polished rock, just mixed in with ornate details and expensive electronics. Antonio wasn't sure what he thought of that. He'd hoped it would have been simpler somehow.

But then he caught sight of Lovino crouching over the table, and whatever small disappointment he had flew away in an instant.

"You two can sit anywhere. I'm going to bring the food right out," Tino said happily, and voiced the last part in the Italians' direction. Feli's spirits lifted slightly, and he looked away from his empty plate to smile in Francis's and Antonio's direction. Lovino barely moved. His eyes were glued to the tablecloth.

There were three free seats left, but since Berwald had his arm wrapped protectively over the seat to his right, technically there were only two, and they were on either side of Lovino.

Antonio walked to the table and pulled out a chair, smiling in Lovino's direction even though he hadn't yet looked up.

"Lovi!" Antonio called, and watched in amusement how Lovino's shoulders jerked up and brown eyes flashed in his direction.

Lovino seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "When did you get here?"

"Just now, didn't you see?" Antonio tilted his head.

"No, I was thinking," Lovino replied and turned his head away, red tinting his cheeks. "And I wouldn't have noticed you anyway," he added in a low mumble.

"Oh, don't be so rude _mon chaton_! Look at all the effort I put in to make Antonio presentable for you. Come now, doesn't he look like sophisticated gentleman?" Francis grinned.

Antonio narrowed his eyes at his friend, but then he heard something magical: Lovino's laugh. It was still so rare and musical, Antonio looked at Lovino very surprised.

But it was as fleeting as ever, and after a few moments, Lovino managed to bite his laughter back and say, "I don't think he could ever look sophisticated. Or like a gentleman." His gold-brown eyes sparkled, and Antonio smiled breathlessly.

It was so exciting to see Lovino happy. His face was so colorful and expressive and complex, Antonio wished he could spend hours trying to solve it.

"You don't think I could be a gentleman?" Antonio asked, chuckling playfully.

Lovino's lips twisted, as he fought hard to hide a smile. "No, it doesn't suit you," he said and picked up his glass of wine. "You're better off as an idiot."

Francis laughed and raised his glass. "Well, I'll agree to that!"

Feli joined in enthusiastically, and Berwald and Kiku participated a bit more quietly. Each had a sip of the wine, and Antonio just watched them tentatively. He left the glass alone and drank some of his water instead.

Tino came in to bring out the dinner, dropping it off plate by plate. Lovino noticed Antonio hadn't touched his wine, and he frowned.

"What's wrong with it?"

Antonio turned to him, blinking in confusion. "What's wrong with what?"

Lovino pointed and said, "The wine."

"Oh," Antonio scratched his hair, and Francis groaned. "I don't really like wine. It's kind of funny, huh?"

"You what?"

"I don't like wine."

"No."

"No…what?"

"No. You like wine. Everybody likes wine," Lovino ordered, and his eyes blazed in passion. "You're fucking _Spanish_. You have to like wine."

"I know," Antonio smiled a bit embarrassed and fidgeted with his collar again. "But I just don't. It doesn't taste good."

"Don't take it to heart Lovino, Antonio really has never liked wine. I've tried my best, but really the only way to get him to like it is to get him drunk first. He can only handle some white wines, or champagne," Francis explained as he took another sip. "But this is very good! Tastes a bit like cherries. Is this your Valpolicella?"

"It is! This is our most famous one! It's what we're known for in Italy," Feliciano exclaimed as he rolled his spaghetti onto his fork.

"It's very good," Francis complimented and sighed. "Ah, it really is so sad I have two friends so against the most wonderful thing in the world."

"Well, Gilbert can drink it. He just likes beer more," Antonio said in his friend's defense.

_"Who could like beer more than wine?"_ Francis and Lovino muttered in unison. They looked up, and though Francis seemed rather pleased, Lovino quickly turned away with a blush and scowl.

"A-anyway," Lovino stabbed his spaghetti and tried to ignore the friendly French aura. "If you're going to work here, you're going to have to start drinking wine."

Antonio's face fell. "Really?"

"Yes," Lovino deadpanned and pointed to the full glass. "Starting with that one."

Antonio glanced back and forth from the glass to Lovino's stern eyes, asking silently if he was serious. Lovino didn't budge and Antonio groaned in dread.

He picked up the glass, still keeping eye contact with Lovino in desperate hope that he won't have to follow through, but there was no sign. So quickly, Antonio shut his eyes and took a fast sip, throwing it behind his tongue as fast as he could to avoid the taste. Of course, he still caught a bit, and his face scrunched in displeasure.

"You fucking baby," Lovino shook his head. "You're the type who just wants to drink juice."

"At least juice tastes good. It's just – alcohol is so…" Antonio shuddered and Francis resigned himself to another light laugh.

"He really is a tragic case, isn't he?" Francis lamented.

"Oh, I know!" Feli piped up, capturing the attention of everyone at the table. "Toni should come to our wine tasting event! He could try them all and maybe find one he'd like."

Lovino blushed. "But that's for critics and buyers. People who actually like wine, and take it seriously. I'm not inviting a fucking lightweight who doesn't know anything about wine to mess everything up."

"Aw, I think it'd be good for him! It won't just be serous people! I'm sure there'll be people from town too," Feli insisted, and shifted his gaze to Antonio. "I really think you'd like it! There won't just be red wine. And you can bring a friend or a date too! Wine is very romantic."

Antonio's heart stuttered. A date. When was the last time he went on a date? The word never evoked a reaction from him before, but why is it now he feels so fluttery. For some reason he found himself turning towards Lovino and checking his expression.

Lovino was staring down at his spaghetti, his face strangely blank and tense.

"Is it okay?" Antonio asked, though he didn't know what he was asking about really.

Lovino's eyes darted up, very wide and very golden. He seemed to check himself though, and quickly bit his lip and picked up his fork forcefully. "J-just do whatever the hell you want bastard. I don't care."

Antonio's heart clenched. But he ignored it and chose to admire Lovino's adorable blush instead. "Okay. _Gracias_."

~/~

After everyone had finished their dinner, and the awkward off and on conversations had ceased, Antonio, Berwald and Kiku apologized for having to leave early – they live on farm time, and have to get up early in the morning. Francis decided to leave at that time too, but he left much more refreshed than before. It'd been a very socially successful day for him.

When everyone was loitering near the door, Lovino didn't say his goodbyes. He just stood by the staircase and crossed his arms as everyone walked by. Antonio said good night to him, and Lovino tilted his eyes down to avoid meeting green ones and mumbled a soft, "you too." Antonio smiled – Lovino knows he did – and left.

Afterwards, Lovino moved to his post at the kitchen window and watched the small house until finally the lights went out. His heart hurt so much. He didn't like it at all. It made him feel so afraid. So guilty.

Feliciano skipped into the kitchen to hunt through the refrigerator, and Lovino fiddled with his cross under his shirt.

As Feli hummed to nothing, Lovino gripped the cross.

"Hey Feli?"

"Si?~" Feliciano pulled out a large tub of strawberry ice cream and laid it on the counter. He was only half paying attention as he hunted for a bowl and spoon.

Lovino flushed in shame. "Um, is there a…a church in town?"

"A church?" Feli paused to look at him curiously. "Do you want to go to mass next week?"

"Y-yeah," he replied stiffly.

Feliciano gave him another look before turning back to the tub with a hum. "Hm, there are a lot of Protestant churches here, but I think I saw a Catholic one somewhere. I don't think it'll be as pretty as the Italian ones so I haven't gone."

"Oh," Lovino breathed and squeezed his necklace one last time. Then he shuffled out of the kitchen towards the stairs.

"Aw, are you going to bed already? I wanted to watch some Virna Lisi movies.~"

"Just watch them with Tino. I'm tired," Lovino said hastily as he jumped up the stairs.

"Alright, fine," Feli sighed. "_Ti amo, Lovi! Buonanotte!_"

Lovino couldn't reply, his throat felt too tight, so he pretended he hadn't heard anything and ran to his room. He dashed past his bed until he reached his balcony and finally, the cold night air enveloped him securely. He sat down on the floor and curled up near the iron railing as he looked outwards.

Lovino's eyes stung, but he didn't cry. He isn't going to cry about this because it doesn't matter. He'll go to church tomorrow and everything will be better. He'll confess, and he'll be forgiven. He will.

Somehow Lovino's eyes find their way to the little house, only lit faintly by moonlight, and he prays.

He just wants Antonio to stay away.

* * *

~/~

* * *

_*vignoble – vineyard_

_*mon chaton – my kitten_

_*Michelle Bonnefoy (Francis's cousin) – Seychelles _

_*Jeanne d'Arc - the Bonnefoy wine brand. Based in Bordeaux, with branches in Burgundy, Rioja and Valdepeñas (Spain), Saxony (Germany), Mendoza (Argentina), and Napa Valley, California. Their most famous wine is their Sauternes - a dessert wine - made from Sémillon, Sauvignon blanc, and Muscadelle grapes._

_I'll see you very soon, because obviously I don't follow schedules. _

_Thank you so much for reading! Please review :)_


	3. Chapter Three: Nebbiolo

_Sorry for the wait! Blame school, sorority, just college in general...Long story short, life got in the way. But finally (finally!) I managed to escape everyone and write. And thank you for all of the wonderful feedback! It made me try very hard with this chapter, though it was particularly difficult to write._

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_Nebbiolo – is an Italian red wine grape variety with complex flavors and aromas, including roses, cherries, truffles and mints; even hints of tar, tobacco and leather. _

~/~

That feeling was familiar. Lovino remembered it. The dizzying rush of adrenaline, a confusing and fluttering heart, and the burning desire, a compulsion, to just touch someone. A boy.

It was so long ago, but Lovino remembered it perfectly. It was someone he sat next to in Catholic school, just an ordinary schoolboy, but he was beautiful. Lovino always thought so. And it didn't seem wrong at the time. It felt right. It felt natural. How could he not be attracted to him?

So during recess one day, hidden behind a pretty pine tree in the back of the playground, Lovino kissed him. It was short and sweet – a quick peck on the lips – just an impulse – but it made Lovino's cheeks burn hotter than they'd ever been. His palms sweat and tentatively, from under his bangs he looked back at the boy who had already run away.

Then there were lectures. And meetings. He talked to every nun, every teacher, every official in charge, and they explained to him what he'd done, why it was wrong, and it terrified Lovino so much. The thought of being unwanted, unworthy, disgusting, or even condemned. So he apologized. He told them he didn't know, it was an accident, and he wouldn't ever do it again. They accepted his atonement, but always kept a watchful eye over him.

Then communion came, and Lovino confessed his greatest sin, the one that forever haunted his mind. Kissing that beautiful boy.

~/~

Antonio stepped out of the little house, and lingered under the protection of the roof. It was raining today. There was a light drizzle that blanketed everything in the valley, and Antonio looked out a bit sadly at the bleak, grey sky. He sighed and leaned against the doorway. Hopefully it'll clear up in the afternoon. There's nothing for him to do indoors.

He heard the low roar of a motor and he hurried outside. Lovino's black motorcycle rolled out of the driveway, and in another moment it sped to the main road, twisting and turning with the hills.

Antonio's breath hitched when he thought of Lovino riding his motorcycle in the rain. Would he be okay? Does Lovino know how to drive in the rain? Are these roads even safe?

Antonio's ears followed the hum of the motor avidly, waiting for any screeches or halts.

Eventually, it faded away, and Antonio breathed.

~/~

There was a Catholic church, and it was much larger than Feliciano let on. It even had a convent and a school attached to it. Lovino's shoulders stiffened at the sight of the place: it reminded him too much of home.

He parked his motorcycle and set the kickstand, then took off his helmet to let the rain wash over him. He didn't mind it. It was cool and refreshing. After a few minutes of awkward standing, Lovino felt ready, and he pushed open the door with steady hands.

It was plain; Feliciano was right about that. There were few stained glass windows, and poor, simple decorations in general, but it was a church, and that was all that mattered.

Lovino touched the holy water and quickly made the motions of the cross, then he walked forward, turning around every few steps to check for other bodies. There was only one, a woman with short dark blonde hair, kneeling down in a pew, but Lovino only gave her a cursory glance before angling away to the votive candles.

Lovino lit one and prayed.

_Please God, just keep Antonio away. I don't want to sin again. I don't know what to do when I'm around him. Just keep him away, please. Please. That's all I want._

When Lovino opened his eyes he noticed the short-haired woman was lighting a candle next to him. He flinched, and she turned around.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I startle you?" She asked, and Lovino's eyes flitted all over her face. Her right cheek: it's scarred. Not terribly, but there were lines and divots running near her eye down over her cheek, all the way to her jawline.

Lovino forced himself back to her eyes. They were grey. "No, of course not."

She smiled, and her eyes crinkled kindly. "Alright. Sorry anyway," she said and finished lighting a candle.

Lovino watched absentmindedly as she lit one after another. Without thinking he blurted, "Why so many?"

"Hm," she blinked from her reverie and their eyes met again. "Oh, well these are for…for my company."

"Your company?" Lovino repeated.

Her eyes tilted down, but her smile stayed. "Yes. I was a captain of a company in the U.S. Army."

"Oh." Lovino narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. "But you don't really sound American."

"Yes, well, I was born in France. I only moved to the states after my parents passed away," she said and brushed locks of neat cropped hair behind her ear. "And then I joined the army."

"Are you…retired?" Lovino asked hesitantly, unsure of the right choice of words.

Her smile twisted crookedly in amusement. "In a way. I'm trying to find my new calling."

Lovino nodded, and turned towards his candle again.

"I'm actually staying with the convent right now as a postulate."

"You want to be a nun?" Lovino jerked his head around incredulously. "But that's – you're too nice to become a nun!" It wasn't even just that. Lovino couldn't place it, but there was just _something_ about her that didn't seem to fit with his experiences of other nuns. She was different.

The woman laughed merrily, faint color spreading over her face, and Lovino flushed too, just several shades darker.

"Not all nuns are scary," she chuckled. "But if it's any consolation, I don't think I'll be pursuing that avenue for very much longer. It doesn't suit me anymore." She offered a smile to Lovino, but he avoided her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't think I've asked for your name."

"Oh, um, Lovino Vargas," he said and extended his arm out.

"You're Italian right? I'm Jeanne Romée, it's a pleasure to meet you," she grasped his hand, and startled Lovino with a firm shake. Jeanne noticed Lovino kept darting his eyes to the side. "Are you looking for someone?"

He blinked, and folded his arms over his chest protectively. "K-kind of. I was wondering if a priest was here?"

Understanding lit her eyes. "You're here for a confession, aren't you?" He nodded. "I don't believe there's one here right now. Perhaps he'll be here later? Or I could ask one of the nuns when he'll be back –"

"No, that's fine," Lovino breathed, suddenly relieved the church was empty.

Jeanne pursed her lips in thought. "Well, if you need to talk, I'd be happy to listen."

He hesitated. "No, really, it's fine. I-It's not important anyway," he sighed and rubbed his red cheek.

"Is it about a girl?"

"W-what?" Lovino stuttered and stepped back. "Why would you ask that?"

Jeanne pointed at him. "Because you're blushing. And you seem rather nervous."

"That doesn't mean shit," he huffed, and smacked his head with his palm when he realized he cursed. "Damn it – er, I mean, fu – oh, whatever."

She giggled and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure God forgives you. But why don't you tell me more about this girl? I could probably help."

"Because that's," he stopped and bit his lip. "W-well, w-what do you do if you l-like someone you…shouldn't?"

"Oh, like Romeo and Juliet?" She smiled.

"No, not at all like fu-stupid Romeo and Juliet," Lovino muttered darkly and dismissed the thought Antonio being anything but an idiot. He most certainly couldn't be romantic.

"Really? Well, why 'shouldn't' you two be together?" Jeanne raised her hands in air-quotes.

Lovino clenched his nails into his palms. "Because it's just…wrong."

"Oh, Lovino. God loves you unconditionally. I don't think loving someone could change that," she appeased and placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

He looked at her face, her scars, her grey, stormy eyes, her smile. She didn't get it at all. Suddenly, he shook of her hand and started walking away.

"Lovino?" Jeanne called after him, unsure of whether to follow or not.

Lovino ignored her. He didn't want to yell, he didn't want to cry, and he knew if he even tried to explain everything to her, he would end up doing both. This is his problem, not hers.

So he pushed open the tall, wooden doors, and let them slam shut with a violent gust of wind. Then he was alone in the rain. It drizzled all over him, Lovino wanted it to rinse everything away. Why couldn't his emotions fall down with the raindrops?

He thought about going back to the vineyard: seeing Antonio again. What is he going to do? Ignore him? Act as he has been?

Then Lovino realizes this was all one-sided; just as it had been in grade school. All of these feelings, these nauseating sensations, they all belonged to him. Antonio doesn't feel any of it, he's just an idiot after all.

Lovino gripped his cross. The thought of Antonio not feeling anything for him – even though it's right – broke his heart. It made everything hurt.

But maybe, if he can just pretend like they're only friends, everything will be okay. Lovino won't mess things up like he did all of those years ago.

For some reason, it would be even worse if it was Antonio running away.

~/~

Lovino drove away from the church. He sped away as fast as he could, and only slowed when felt as though he was finally safe from its grasp and no one was looking over his shoulder.

He arrived in downtown, and wandered vaguely through the streets. The publicity for the wine tasting had already been sent out, so there was nothing much for him to do for a while. He supposed he should be choosing and arranging the schedule for the day, but Lovino felt too scatterbrained for that.

A clear, glass structure caught his eye. It was filled to the brim in green, and attached was a quaint brick building, with colorful flowers overflowing from the windowsills. Lovino paused his bike at the sidewalk and stared at the sign.

Tulip Haven. That was Emma's nursery, wasn't it? The one she shared with her brother.

Lovino thought about her pale, green eyes and easy, sweet voice…He could like her, right? He thought she was pretty, and fairly nice; she wasn't half as annoying as some of the girls he talked to. Maybe if he went out with her Antonio wouldn't be a problem anymore.

With that hopeful thought, Lovino gritted his teeth and parked his bike. He unbuckled his helmet and held it at his side, and wandered over to the nursery. The door was colorful and inviting, but Lovino held his breath when pushing through. A chime echoed when he stepped inside.

"Hello there! Welcome to Tulip Haven, can I hel – oh, Lovino!" Emma looked up from the desktop computer and smiled charmingly at him.

Lovino breathed easier. At least Emma made him feel calm. "Hey, I was just driving through. I thought I might just stop by."

"Of course! Of course! Do you want me to show you around? It's not very big, but Tim – my brother – he takes such good care of the place, and it's so wonderful," she gushed as she skipped around the counter.

Lovino rubbed the top of his helmet against his jean, and debated hugging her. But Emma made the first move.

"Aw," she hummed as she enveloped him in her arms. "I'm so happy you came! We never really got to say goodbye the other day."

Lovino twitched and felt his cheeks grow warm at the memory of that day. After the horse ride, he really just wanted to leave; he stormed out of the property without giving notice to anyone.

"Sorry," he laughed awkwardly, and untangled himself from her arms. "Feliciano and I had dinner to prepare for some guests, so we had to get home fast."

"You had dinner without me?" She placed a hand to heart in faux anger. "You didn't invite another girl, did you?"

Lovino's face darkened in shame. "The fuck? Of course not, why would I – er, I don't…" his voice trailed off and he hung his head in defeat. "Shit, never mind."

Surprisingly, Lovino didn't hear anger or confusion, just a pleasant, light giggle, and suddenly he felt the soft sensation of lips pressing against his cheek. He looked up wide-eyed and perplexed, but Emma just smiled slyly at him.

"Oh, Lovino, I was only teasing you," she poked his side and he stood there numbly. "You're so cute! I love how you get so embarrassed. But don't worry, I'm not mad at you. Well, not too much."

"What?"

"I know," she clapped her hands together, and her green eyes glinted almost yellow under the florescent light. "How about you find a way to make it up to me?"

"Um," Lovino stared at her and tried to comprehend what she was saying. "Like a…date?" The last word left his mouth so tentatively, but Emma's face lit up all the same.

"You'd like to go on a date with me, Lovino?"

"You just said –"

"Yes, I'd love to! I'm so happy you asked!" She pulled him down for another hug, and released with a coy smile. "I'm going to make something for you real quick. How about you take a look around and come find me in a few minutes."

Lovino nodded, and watched Emma's dress swish side to side as she skipped into the back room.

Without thinking, he felt his lips turn up, and he walked towards the warm greenhouse with a proud little smile. Maybe he wasn't a lost cause. He just asked out Emma, didn't he? And she's a girl. Though, in a way it was more like her doing, but all the same Lovino said yes, damn it.

As he turned the aisles in the steamy glass building he caught sight of a perfect collection of tomato plants. Lovino paused in front of them and held their fresh, young leaves in his fingers. He used to have tomato plants at home that he and Feliciano planted with their parents, but after they passed away, the garden faded away with them.

Lovino wondered if he could plant them. It might be nice to have a vegetable garden, but he didn't really know anything about raising plants. Maybe he did in the past, but it's been so long and…

"Lovi!"

At the sound of that voice, Lovino's body jumped up, and his eyes widened in more fear than surprise. Across the rows of tomato plants was Antonio's broad grin, curly brown hair, and his glowing, emerald eyes.

"W-what the fuck? What are you doing here?" Lovino stuttered, and he backed up to grip a table behind him.

Antonio laughed his earthy, Spanish laugh, and Lovino turned his gaze away very embarrassed.

"_Lo siento_, Lovi. I didn't mean to surprise you," he apologized and leaned his tan, muscular arms near the tomato plants in front of him. "Berwald was going into town to do some shopping since the rain isn't letting up today, and I thought I'd go with him."

"Really?" Lovino frowned and flicked his eyes to Antonio's once more. He hoped he looked menacing, or angry at the very least, but Antonio's lips twitched in amusement, and his eyes danced keenly. Lovino gave up and tilted his gaze to the floor again. "Whatever. It's not like I care what you do with your stupid time anyway."

Antonio didn't seem to hear the bite in those weak words, or if he did, he didn't care, and said, "Oh, that reminds me. When is that wine tasting thing again?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "You still on about that? Look, you don't have to go if you don't like wine. You'll just mess things up that way."

"Aw, that's not true! I may not like wine, but I do like you," Antonio smiled happily, and Lovino felt his ears burn red. "I feel like I should give your wine a chance! I am growing the grapes, so…" Antonio's voice trailed off into another laugh.

Lovino didn't say anything. He was still repeating those four words over and over in his head. He knows it's wrong, but just hearing those words sent a thrill up his spine.

"Also, Feli said I could bring someone. Is that still okay?" Antonio asked, and Lovino blinked.

All of the heat stirring in his chest wrapped around his heart and squeezed. His heartbeat echoed loud and slow.

Somehow, Lovino managed to cough, and frown nonchalantly. "Do whatever you want bastard, I don't give a shit."

This time, Antonio did notice the sting, and he squinted at Lovino a bit perplexed. "Are you sure? Feliciano said I could take someone so –"

"Look, I already said it's fine! You can bring whoever the fuck you want!" Lovino snapped, and after a moment added, "I'll probably bring someone too, so there."

"Oh," Antonio replied simply, his expression suddenly blank.

Lovino waited in baited breath for Antonio to say something more, anything at all, but he didn't and just stared pensively at the tomato plants.

"W-well, I think I'm just going to head back," Lovino mumbled and shifted the helmet from his right hand to his left.

Antonio looked up, surprised to see Lovino already walking away, and ran swiftly around the corner to catch up with him. "You're leaving?"

"Y-yeah. I have to get back eventually." Lovino fidgeted, unnerved to have Antonio so close. He could smell the perfume of basil leaves and spices, and feel the warmth of sunshine. It made him feel dizzy, and unsure of whether he wanted to run away or get closer.

Suddenly, Antonio grasped his arm and held him back. Lovino didn't breathe, and turned his eyes to Antonio's warily and confused. Maybe even a bit hopeful.

Antonio paused, apparently as surprised by the situation as Lovino, but quickly recovered with a delicate smile. "Do you mind driving a bit more carefully? These roads aren't really great in the rain."

"Um," Lovino breathed, and couldn't help but hold onto Antonio's strong, fervent gaze. But he caught himself and shook himself free from his grip. "P-please, I'm an excellent driver."

Antonio's smile remained, but he closed his eyes with a small sigh. "I'm sure you are."

Just as Lovino was debating his choices of snarky remarks, Emma turned into their aisle.

"Ah, Lovi! Found you!" She called, and briefly halted her gate when she spotted Antonio standing nearby. Lovino's breath hitched when he noticed Emma's sharp eyes flick from Antonio to him and back again, but he tried his best to look relaxed. Then she asked, "Do you two know each other?"

"Si!"

"No."

Antonio and Lovino exchanged glances, and Emma looked at them suspiciously.

Lovino hugged his helmet and tried to ignore his furious blush. "H-he works for me. On the vineyard. We only met a week ago."

"Oh, I see," Emma hummed, and Lovino caught the glare she sent Antonio's way.

"Wait, how do you know Emma?" Antonio piped up, purposefully directing his attention towards Lovino.

Lovino squeezed the helmet tighter. He felt trapped. "Well, we met at Francis's house."

"And Lovino was so sweet! All of the girls were positively charmed with him," she added and stepped closer to slide her hand around Lovino arm. "Especially me."

Emma pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and looked at Antonio again. "Oh, Toni. I think Berwald was looking for you somewhere near the lettuce. You should try to find him."

Lovino wasn't sure if he caught a flicker of annoyance in his eyes because in another second, Antonio's eyes were sparkling again, and looking only at him.

"Well, I guess I better go. Take care Lovi. I'll see you at home, okay?" Antonio held Lovino's shoulder briefly before walking away.

"Bye Toni! See you later!" Emma sang after him, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

Lovino's fingers drifted over his shoulder, and his arm: he could still feel Antonio's touch. It seared through his jacket onto his skin. It was like a burn, scalding and painful; and even after the fact, it still throbbed.

"Lovino," Emma purred, and Lovino jumped in alarm. She didn't mind, and if anything, it seemed to please her. "Before you leave, there's something I want to give you."

She tugged on his sleeve anyway, and encouraged him to follow. So he did, but couldn't help but peer through the tall and varying plants for any sign of Antonio. When they reached the front desk, he gave up, and watched Emma hunt for something behind a cabinet.

Then she revealed a small bouquet full of bright, pretty flowers.

"This is for you," she said and handed the bouquet off to Lovino's free hand.

He grasped it and looked at her hesitantly. "Oh, it's really…nice. But what's this for?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Just because," she smiled, and Lovino caught the hint.

"Thanks," he said, and felt his features relax in relief.

"You're very welcome," she giggled, and poked his arm playfully. "Make sure to take good care of it, alright? There's something very special in there."

"Okay," Lovino replied, and finally managed to give her a heartfelt smile in return. "Maybe I'll see you later," he added as he pushed open the glass door.

"I hope so! Bye, Lovi," she waved with another giggle, and Lovino winked.

It was still raining outside, but it was just a steady drizzle. Lovino dropped his helmet over his head with one hand, and made the move to inspect the bouquet. He wasn't sure what to do with it, since he was driving a motorcycle, but maybe he could at least look inside before he tried to carry it home. His fingers shifted through the varying stems, tied together by a broad green ribbon, and then, tucked neatly in the midst, was a crisp white card.

Lovino plucked it out and read the fanciful, cursive script. On one side it was the name of the store – Tulip Haven – and on the other…

_Call me sometime, okay? – Emma._

Her number was written underneath.

~/~

Lovino tucked the flowers into his jacket and drove home. Everything was strangely quiet. The rain, the motor, the wind. All of it seemed faded and ghostly. He felt numb somehow. Perhaps he was too confused to feel anything at all.

When he arrived home, he dumped the flowers on the kitchen counter and ignored Feliciano's prodding, excited questions. Lovino gave some half-assed answer about a girl, and climbed the stairs while he tried to block out Feliciano and then Tino's high pitched shrills of excitement.

He flopped on the bed and hid his face in the pillows. He wouldn't look out at the vineyard tonight hoping to catch Antonio. He was just going to sleep.

~/~

Lovino didn't wake up until late the next morning. The sunlight was shining brightly in his face, and he groaned at the sight of it. Slowly, almost painfully, he rolled out of bed, and proceeded to stumble down the stairs, desperate for a sip of caffeine.

Feliciano was nowhere to be found, but Lovino assumed he was gallivanting downstairs, fixing up the cellar for this weekend. Maybe Tino was there too, because his usual presence in the kitchen was missing.

_Ding dong._

That was the doorbell. Somewhere through Lovino's sleepy haze, he felt a pang of annoyance, but reluctantly he walked to the door to answer. Without looking through the peephole, he unlocked and pulled it open, and it took him a moment to focus through the bright sunshine in front of him.

"Oh, Lovi! Did you just wake up?"

Lovino squinted, and was finally able to make out Antonio's tan, smiling face. He must have been too sleepy to be flustered, because he barely frowned, and instead just puckered his eyebrows in confusion. "Antonio? What the hell are you doing here?"

Antonio brightened at the sound of his name, and if possible his grin broadened. "You're so cute when you're sleepy Lovi! You look like a little kid."

At that a wave of heat flooded his cheeks and everything seemed like usual. "Shut up bastard, or else I'll slam this door in your face."

Antonio chuckled, and his eyes flashed disbelievingly. "Alright. Well, I only stopped by for something to drink. Tino said he would bring something out."

"You came all the way over here for some of his shitty, lemonade?" Lovino raised an eyebrow.

Antonio's mouth twisted in amusement, Lovino wished he knew what it was. "Not exactly. I'm actually working on something outside."

"Huh? Oh, do you mean Feli's stupid garden?" Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Not this time!" Antonio said and leaned in close. "Do you want to see?"

"Um," Lovino breathed, partially desperate to move even closer. "Sure."

"Great," Antonio grinned and motioned for him to follow.

Lovino stepped outside in his sweatpants and t-shirt and hopped along the hot cement uncomfortably. They reached the side of the house right by Lovino's balcony, and Antonio waved to a small little plot of healthy dark soil, with several leafy plants scattered about.

"Oh, are those tomatoes?" Lovino asked, and he picked up the pace to reach the cool grass nearby.

"They are!~ I bought some yesterday," Antonio said proudly, obviously enjoying Lovino's expression.

Lovino didn't realize it at first, but he was smiling. And he was smiling willingly with eyes shimmering in excitement. He could be as open as a book at times, and Antonio loved to watch.

Then in another moment, Lovino seemed to notice Antonio's stare, and he bit his smile down to a forced frown. He eyed Antonio curiously. "Why the hell did you buy tomatoes?"

Antonio knelt near the plants and gave Lovino a suave grin. "Well, I saw you looking at them yesterday, and you seemed pretty excited about them. And I like tomato plants too, so I thought it might be fun to start another garden."

"I wasn't excited," Lovino insisted stubbornly, but his ears turned red.

"Oh, really?" Antonio stopped smiling briefly, but his eyes were playful. "Should I just take them back then? Or I could probably give them to Francis. He likes tomatoes somewhat."

Lovino pressed his lips together, unsure of how to respond in a way that wasn't outrageously embarrassing. "W-well, they're already here. So we might as well just keep them."

Lovino missed Antonio's triumphant smile. "Alright then."

"But you have to take care of them."

"Okay!"

"And water them."

"Okay!"

"And weed them or whatever the shit, because I'm not touching that."

"Okay!" Antonio agreed again, happy to have roped Lovino for more company. "What will you do then?"

Lovino flicked his eyes around nervously. "I'll just…"

"Yes?"

"I'll just," Lovino stumbled again and closed his eyes. "I'll just eat them."

Antonio was silent, and Lovino bit the inside of his cheek fearfully. Then he heard a comforting, masculine chuckle and opened his eyes.

Antonio was smiling at him, mouth, eyes, everything. "That's fine with me."

Lovino turned away embarrassed. "I just don't like gardening very much."

"Really? Why is that?"

"I don't know. I don't like getting all of that dirt on my hands," Lovino gestured to the dark soil.

"Hm, that's interesting," Antonio nodded and turned his attention to the plants. "I never really minded. My parents did though, so I got yelled at for playing in the dirt at home," he laughed and cupped his face in his stained palm. He gave Lovino a dashing smile, "But I did it anyway."

"Oh," Lovino replied. He sensed Antonio meant more than just gardening, but he was too shy to ask. "Are your parents still in Spain?"

Antonio sighed strangely, but a slight smile remained. "Yeah, they are. I was the only one who moved out here. I kind of followed Francis and Gilbert when they decided to move."

"Who's Gilbert?" Lovino asked.

"He's another good friend of mine. He and his brother live in town. They own a liquor store and bar. Though I guess Ludwig doesn't really do much for it. He's in school," Antonio pursed his lips in thought. "Gilbert's actually who I'm taking to the wine tasting! He knows a lot about alcohol, though he's the one that's a bigger fan of beer than wine."

Everything clicked into place and Lovino let out a large breath of relief. "Oh," he said, though there were so many things he was referring to. Without thinking he blurted, "I thought you were bringing a girl."

Antonio cocked his head to the side, his eyes glinting. "Why would you think that?"

"Uh," Lovino gasped, gripping his forearms nervously as he racked his brain for any excuse. "B-because Feli said you could take a date…I guess."

"Ah," Antonio nodded, his lips still turned up slightly. "That's interesting."

"No, not really," Lovino mumbled, suddenly very, very aware of how close they are. Why was it they always ended up so close together? It's unbearable.

From the corner of his eye he saw Antonio about to say something, and for once he couldn't read it in those open, green eyes. He wanted to hear it so badly, but then someone interrupted.

"There you are Toni! Did you already stop by the house? I thought I heard the doorbell."

Lovino jumped away, and began retracing his steps back to the house. He passed Tino, who was balancing a tray of lemonade and cups, and didn't say a word.

"Oh, Lovino, are you going already? I have some extra lemonade if you like," he offered as he called after him.

"No, it's fine. I should get dressed and whatever," Lovino replied hurriedly, desperate to run away. His heart twisted in guilt knowing that Tino caught him with Antonio.

"Will I see you later Lovi?" Antonio asked, and Lovino peered slightly over his shoulder to see Antonio standing up.

"I," Lovino stopped, weighing the different possibilities in his mind. "Wh-who knows, bastard," he snapped angrily, more out of frustration, and opened the door.

It closed hard, and he wasn't able to hear a response if there were any. For a long, drawn out few minutes he leaned against the wood and breathed heavily. Then Lovino hit his fist against the door and groaned.

Of course he'd see Antonio later.

~/~

In the mid-afternoon, as Lovino was shyly watching Antonio from his balcony he called Emma's number.

It rang only once, and she picked up. _"Hello! Who is this?"_

"This is Lovino," he said quietly, and began crawling back indoors so Antonio wouldn't hear. "How are you doing?"

_"Lovino! I'm wonderful, thank you! I'm so happy you called!"_

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck nervously, but his heart was calm. "I was thinking maybe we could meet up sometime this week. Maybe for dinner somewhere?"

_"Oh, that would be lovely! I would love to! And I know the restaurants in town so well, so I can pick out the place if you like!"_ She babbled and Lovino pulled the phone away from his ear slightly.

"That's fine. Pick whatever you like," he insisted, though secretly he wanted to say Italian only.

_"Okay, that's so sweet of you! Let's see…do you think Thursday might work for you?"_

"Perfect," he said quickly. "I have to go now, but I'll call you later to ask about the restaurant."

_"Oh, well alright then! I'll give it a lot of thought! Bye, Lovi!"_

"Bye," he replied brusquely and ended the call. He closed his eyes, sighed, and finally laughed. This was good. He felt good. All of his guilt flew away, and he thought maybe now it would be okay if he ended up seeing Antonio again. Eventually, it would stop meaning something, right?

All he had to do was fall in love with Emma. Or at the very least, he should probably like her.

~/~

"Lovino?"

"Hm?"

"You have beautiful eyes," Antonio said, and Lovino finally managed to focus. He'd been staring at Antonio mindlessly, without thinking really, just watching him work.

But that comment caught him off guard and he flushed red from his ears to his neck and turned his eyes away. "What the fuck are you talking about, bastard?"

"I was just giving you a compliment. I think about it a lot, so I figured I may as well tell you," Antonio replied simply, his smile evident in his voice.

"I don't like it," Lovino mumbled and looked down at his hands.

"What? Being complimented?"

"Yeah."

Lovino could hear him thinking.

"You just need to be complimented more! Don't worry, I'll fix that," Antonio exclaimed with a light chuckle and Lovino looked at him dubiously. "Oh, you know another thing I like? Your smile."

"I don't smile," Lovino declared boldly, and bit his bottom lip to fend off his amusement.

Antonio smirked knowingly. "Yes, you do. I've seen it. It's just not very often, so I have to wait for it. But you should do it more often. You have such a pretty smile."

Now Lovino's skin buzzed and he brought his knees to his chest to hide part of his face protectively. "Stop using words like that. I'm not a girl."

Antonio laughed easily, and moved closer to sit by Lovino's side. "I don't think pretty and beautiful only apply to girls."

"Well they do," Lovino insisted, and twitched when he noticed Antonio had neared so close. "And I'm not a girl, damn it."

Antonio laughed again, but this time it made Lovino's breath quicken. He looked at Lovino, eyes shining bright and bold, and his smile permanent on his lips.

"Don't worry, Lovi. I know."

~/~

"So Lovi, what are you doing today?" Feli asked at breakfast on a cloudy, Thursday morning. The sun had been in and out all week, but today things had taken a turn for the worse again, and the sky was a gloomy, stormy grey.

Lovino appeared very distracted by it, and kept his gaze wistfully out the window. "What?"

"I asked if you were doing something today," Feliciano repeated, watching his brother curiously.

It seemed to finally register with Lovino and he blinked from his reverie. "Oh, I'm going to town."

"Really? Oh good! Tino and I were thinking of making a cake today, so maybe if you go you could pick some ingredients up for us. Would you mind?"

Lovino blushed slightly, and he focused on his cooling toast. "I'm not going until night actually. I have a, um, date."

Feliciano stopped, gaped, and then squealed. "Aw, you have a date! Why didn't you tell me! Oh, Tino will be so excited! We can help you pick out your outfit if you want! We don't have much to do now that Saturday is fully planned. Who are you taking?"

Lovino picked up his coffee and took a sip. "Um, Emma. From Francis's party."

"Oh, her," Feliciano replied, his voice a bit higher. "She's…nice. She's very pretty. But I thought…well. I guess I always figured that you – that she wasn't your_ type, _I guess?"

Lovino scrunched his face in confusion. "What do you mean? What type?"

Feliciano's eyes widened, and he quickly backtracked to a fast smile and charming giggle. "Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter. I guess I was wrong. But you have to tell me more! Like when you're leaving, and where you're going. Are you going to bring anything for her?"

Lovino took his time answering the questions, and he was strangely composed throughout. He liked that Emma made him feel steady and like himself. He never felt thrown or on edge. It was just easy.

At times, Feliciano still looked at him a bit oddly. And that small comment about type scared him, but the conversation about Emma seemed to steer him away from that topic, and Lovino decided to ignore it.

~/~

When it was near dusk, Antonio sat thoughtfully at the picnic table, watching the shimmering light of the balcony and wondering what Lovino was doing. It seemed as if more and more, Lovino was always on his mind.

It felt like he might be falling in love with him. Antonio had never been in love, not really, but he'd had many crushes and flings in the past to recognize when he at least liked someone. This just...felt a bit different. Stronger, intoxicating, but also incredibly confusing.

He could never really tell what Lovino thought of him, his eyes were too guarded, too careful, they rarely gave him away. But perhaps that was what made him so alluring. Antonio wanted so desperately to solve the mystery and make Lovino smile, make him laugh and his gold eyes dance. It gave him a rush he'd never experienced before.

"So where is Lovino going for his date tonight?" Antonio asked smoothly, and the others at the table turned to him.

"Oh, I think I heard him say something about a French restaurant," Tino answered, and fixed the tray of lemon bars in the center of the table.

"Mon Ami."

"Yes, that's the one! Lovino should be leaving soon actually, since it takes a while to get there," Tino added after glancing at his watch. "Does anyone want a lemon bar by the way? I made them fresh today!"

Without saying a word, Berwald picked one up and began eating. Kiku politely declined and resumed reading his book, and Antonio sighed.

He'd known that Lovino would probably go on a date with Emma, especially after the way she looked at him on Monday; but it made him uneasy all the same.

"It's good," Berwald said simply and reached for another one.

"Really? I'm so happy! I tried to make them without Feli's help."

The rev of a motor caught Antonio's attention, and he watched very avidly when Lovino's black motorcycle crawled out of the garage, and picked up speed up the driveway.

Antonio sighed again and looked down at the table.

"Toni, are you okay?" Tino asked.

Antonio turned his gaze to him and smiled quickly. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've been sighing a lot. And usually you carry most of the conversation. It's not like they're big talkers," Tino said quietly and gestured to Berwald and Kiku sitting stoically on the other bench.

"Oh," Antonio laughed and shook his curls. "I'm fine. Just…thinking. That's all."

Tino nodded, taking this in. He was quiet for a moment, recounting some of the conversations he had with Feli. Then, tentatively, he added, "I don't think Lovino really likes Emma, you know."

Antonio blinked, surprised. "What?"

"I don't think Lovino really likes her. Feli and I think she might've asked him out and he didn't know what to say," Tino explained, and watched Antonio's face curiously.

Antonio thought about how clingy she was to him, how sweet and needy her words sounded. "Maybe," he nodded.

Tino eyed him. "So you don't need to worry, you know?"

Antonio looked up, very surprised, but caught Tino's reassuring smile and chuckled a bit bashfully.

"You should have some of my lemon bars to help you feel better!"

Antonio glanced at them, and caught Kiku shaking his head discreetly. "I think I'm good, thank you."

And in reality, he wasn't really hungry. He was too distracted. Perhaps later he'd go for a bike ride to clear his head. Maybe he'd run into Lovino. Maybe.

~/~

It was late when he decided to go out. The sun had long since set, and the only lights flickering belonged to the scattered rooms of the house, and the full, shining moon overhead. Antonio rolled his bike out and looked at the balcony. It was still dark, so Lovino must not be back yet. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. If Lovino stayed out all night, he's not sure what he'll do.

But he continued guiding his bike out of the shed, and hopped on. He pedaled up the shaky little road, pushing hard, and relaxed when he reached the main road. On instinct, he followed the way towards town, and pedaled smoothly. It'd rained a little while ago, but the clouds were clearing up. The road was pretty well illuminated by the moon and the few streetlights. It reminded Antonio a bit of Paris in the rain, though Francis would be insulted if he told him about that. There was just something about shining streets that reminded Antonio of Paris.

He continued biking along, a few cars passing by, but not many. At some point he was biking without any hands on the handlebars, and trying to guide it that way. Just as he was passing a bright streetlamp, he heard a fast motor approach. Antonio looked up, curious to see, and was startled to find it was Lovino's black motorcycle.

It approached fast, but as it neared Antonio, there was a flash of eyes, and Lovino lost control of the handle, and the motorcycle skidded off the road and into the grass. The motorcycle landed a ways away, with Lovino splayed about in a separate part.

At once Antonio's heart stopped. He jumped off his bike, tossing it into the grass on the other side and hurried over.

"Lovino!" He called, and crouched over Lovino's curled form to inspect him. "Lovino, are you alright?"

Antonio unclasped Lovino's helmet to look at him, and was relieved to see Lovino's face and head were unharmed. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Antonio rather confused. "Antonio? What the fuck?"

Antonio's hand flew over Lovino's cheek, then forehead, then hair, before finally pulling him close. "I'm so happy you're alright. You had me so worried."

"I told you, I'm an excellent driver," he mumbled tiredly, not even caring he was pressed closely to Antonio's chest.

"You are alright, aren't you? You're not hurt anywhere?" Antonio pulled away, and began looking over his limbs. Antonio's fingers grazed over Lovino's side and he groaned. Antonio looked up, worried. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Lovino muttered, and tried to glare adamantly.

Antonio frowned and began pulling Lovino's jacket up anyway. "This is no time for you to be stubborn, you know."

"I'm not stubborn, damn it. Nothing's wrong!"

"You're bleeding," Antonio pointed out, and showed his red palm as evidence.

Lovino's eyes widened in panic. "I'm what?"

"You're bleeding," Antonio repeated, and looked back at the wound. It wasn't bad, but it was definitely going to bruise. It seemed as though he hit his side very hard, and the rough road managed to scrape through his jacket and give him a few nasty gashes. "Don't worry though, you'll be fine."

"I'm not fucking worried! You're the one who ran over here!" Lovino continued.

Antonio just rolled his eyes and continued looking over Lovino's stomach.

"And stop that! I'm –" Lovino was cut off by a short burst of laughter, and Antonio, momentarily distracted, lifted his hands away.

"Oh, you're ticklish," Antonio said with a smile.

"No, I'm not! Wait…" Lovino looked around, confused. "Where the fuck did my motorcycle go?"

"Um, I think it landed somewhere over there?" Antonio pointed behind him, and sure enough, a bit further into the grass laid the motorcycle, still spinning its wheels.

"God fucking damn it," Lovino fell back in the grass. "What the hell am I going to do about that?"

"Well, I guess you could call the police," Antonio said and looked around the vast emptiness. "Or something."

Lovino closed his eyes. "Forget it. Hopefully it's not too banged up. I'll just make you go over there and turn it off."

"Wait, what?" Antonio turned around and stared at Lovino's reclining form. He thought about protesting, but then it occurred to him that Lovino might try and do it, and he stopped himself. "Just wait here," he said, and pushed himself off of the ground.

Lovino opened his eyes, apparently surprised Antonio agreed, and sat up. "You're actually doing it?"

Antonio kept walking but looked over his shoulder with a grin. "Of course, you asked me to."

Even in the moonlight, Antonio could see Lovino blush, and those gold-brown eyes sparkle so intensely, as if desperate to say something he couldn't with his voice. Then softly, he said, "Just be careful."

Antonio's chest swelled, and he tried to contain his laughter. Then he approached the motorcycle, quivering around in the grass, bent over it very cautiously, and found the key. He pulled it out quickly, and breathed when it switched off.

When he turned around to give Lovino a triumphant grin, he saw Lovino was already laying back down. Antonio walked back and sat beside him.

He glanced down at Lovino and could still make out his glowing cheeks.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Antonio asked tentatively.

Lovino's eyes flicked to his briefly and then looked down. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just embarrassed."

"Why's that?" Antonio tilted his head, and tried to get a better view of Lovino's face.

"I never fall," Lovino muttered and picked at some blades of grass.

Antonio chuckled, and brushed some of his curls away. "I did warn you Lovino. These roads aren't very well made. Especially for rain."

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino mumbled and flopped back on his back to stare at the sky.

Antonio looked at him, part of him hopeful. "Why'd you skid anyway?"

"Huh?" Lovino blinked.

"Why'd you skid? It seemed like you were distracted by something."

Lovino flushed and he gave Antonio a passionate glare. "I was not! I was just – I wasn't – I was…thinking. About something."

"Oh, is that so," Antonio looked at him with an amused smile. He was sure he caught Lovino staring at him before he lost control of the bike. The fact that Lovino was so evasive and blushing made his heart beat fast in excitement.

Lovino held his own though, and didn't budge his hard, shimmering eyes. "Yes. Now shut up, bastard."

Antonio laughed and looked up at the sky, admitting defeat. He really was falling in love.

"Whatever you say, Lovi."

* * *

~/~

* * *

_*Postulate - like a precursor to becoming a nun. You spend two years living in a convent to see if the lifestyle is suitable for you before transition into becoming a nun._

_*Jeanne Romée - Jeanne d'Arc/Joan of Arc (the historical figure). I borrowed her mother's maiden name (Romée) in place of d'Arc, for various reasons._

_I actually attended Catholic school for a small while in Italy. I was always in trouble with the nuns for not eating (I'm a picky eater), and generally I was afraid of them, but there was one I like. _

_Thank you so much for reading! I hope chapter four will be out soon, and I can see you very, very soon. _

_Please review :)_


	4. Chapter Four: Vespaiola

___So sorry for the delay. It was unintentional as always, but hopefully after September biweekly updates will actually be a thing. I'm not just dealing with college right now, it might be plausible to write more if it was only that. Unfortunately it's also sorority stuff. And that's just...so, so time consuming. Legally Blonde stuff, you know? Some stereotypes are pretty spot-on._

___Anyway, I hope it's worth it. Enjoy :)_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_Vespaiola – is an Italian white wine grape variety characterized by a golden color with aromas of apricots, honeysuckles and spice that can be a byproduct of aging in oak. Primarily used in sweet dessert wines._

~/~

Antonio helped Lovino walk home, insisting that Lovino lean against him for support, and not too reluctantly, Lovino complied. It didn't last too long however, and after a few dozen steps Lovino was fast to push Antonio away with some rushed curses. It didn't seem to bother Antonio and he settled for walking by Lovino's side, keeping a light conversation going and easily avoiding the mention of Emma or his date. But Lovino didn't appear to be too keen on talking anyway. He seemed absolutely drained.

As they were nearing Lovino's house, Antonio slowed his steps down. Lovino gave him a cursory glance, but didn't say anything; he wasn't in any hurry to go home anyway.

When he grew tired of the sound crickets and Antonio's breathing, Lovino decided to talk. "What are you going to do about your bicycle?"

Antonio turned to him smiling. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Lovino breathed, suddenly very distracted by those vibrant, green eyes. He looked down. "You just left it there. Are you going to get it tomorrow?"

"Oh. Actually I'll probably go back after I drop you off and get it," Antonio said easily, plucking a lead from a passing tree.

Lovino frowned. "Don't say it like that. You're not dropping me off because I don't your help." He crossed his arms hurriedly, but hissed when he accidently brushed over his side.

"Are you okay?" Antonio asked, his body suddenly tense and his hand on Lovino's back.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lovino muttered, and flushed red when he felt Antonio's hand. "I said I'm fine," he repeated and swatted Antonio away.

Antonio's lips twisted into a smile, but he didn't say anything and just hummed instead. Finally his green eyes looked away and glanced at the sky and the trees instead.

Lovino pursed his lips, somehow still annoyed with the Spaniard. Then he thought of his date with Emma and what she said and he bit his lip in thought. "Um, Antonio?"

"Si," Antonio turned to him quickly, softly lit under the moon.

Lovino blushed, realizing what a strange question it was and turned away. "Never mind."

"What?" Antonio leaned in and tried to catch his eyes. "Aw, Lovi. Don't do that. Just tell me!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No – the fuck? Get away! You're too close! I'm not asking you this!"

Antonio pulled back, slightly amused. "Oh, it's a question?"

"Doesn't matter," Lovino muttered and kept his face strictly forward.

Antonio looked at him, his green eyes glinting playfully, and smiled. "Should I guess what it is?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "That would be stupid."

Antonio ignored him and pressed his fingers to his lips thoughtfully. "Do you want to know how tall I am?"

Lovino turned to him frowning.

"Where I'm from in Spain?"

Lovino groaned.

"How many siblings I have?"

Lovino kicked a rock.

"How many times I've been in love?"

Lovino paused, and without thinking looked up at him wide-eyed terrified. That wasn't what he wanted to ask at all. But the thought, _the mention_, of Antonio in love just tore at his heart. He wasn't even breathing.

Antonio met his eyes straight-faced and strangely unreadable. Then in a blink he was grinning.

Before he could say anything Lovino looked away and interrupted. "I don't give a shit about that."

Antonio laughed lightly, and Lovino couldn't help but notice how different it sounded. Not as rough. Almost too smooth, too quick. It sounded fake. "I give up Lovino. I don't think I can guess."

"Figures," Lovino mumbled and shoved his hands in his pockets. He noticed they were close to the front door now, so perhaps he could try to ask, and if everything failed he could duck inside. His fingers gripped the fabric and he tried to work up the nerve. "I-it's just," he stopped in fear.

Antonio met his eyes and smiled encouragingly, urging him to continue. "Yes?"

Lovino blushed and shifted so that one of his hands was raking through his hair nervously. "W-well, I was talking to…Emma," he paused to sneak a glance at Antonio, but his expression was exactly the same. "And she said that she…t-tried to, um, well – ask y-you out."

"She did," Antonio said, his smile gone but his eyes alive in curiosity.

They both reached the door and Lovino stayed close to the door handle, whereas Antonio stood still not too far away. Maybe even too close for Lovino's liking.

"R-right," Lovino answered and curled his fingers around the cold metal, just in case. "W-well, she also said that you said no b-because she wasn't y-your…type," he waited a beat for Antonio to say something. He didn't. "A-and I was just wondering w-why."

It was quiet again, and the low chorus of crickets, wind, and rustling leaves filled the awkward void. Lovino was thankful for the night chill, and when it brushed over his warm cheeks he breathed easier. But then Antonio chuckled, musically and happily, and Lovino's heartbeat shifted to staccato.

"W-what is it?" Lovino snapped.

Antonio peered at him, eyes sparkling from laughter. "_Lo siento_, it's nothing. I just find it sort of flattering you two talked about me on your date."

Lovino bristled, a new wave of ashamed heat rushing over his face, down his neck. "We didn't only talk about you! You were just a passing topic of conversation!"

"Oh, really?" Antonio asked, not bothering to hide his delight.

"_Yes, really_. She was the one who brought you up!" Lovino shouted.

Antonio's lashes fluttered in surprise. "Why would she want to talk about me?"

"She just," Lovino paused and his eyes flickered over Antonio's face anxiously, afraid of every possible answer. "She has this _theory_ about you, and I guess she thought I would know if she's right. Or not."

"Oh," Antonio drawled, lingering on the sound a bit too happily. He pressed his lips together in a small smile and asked, "So what do you think?"

"I," Lovino started, unsure, but also infuriatingly desperate to find out. When Emma proposed to him that she thought Antonio was gay, it didn't make him feel disgusted as it should have. Instead, his face lit up. It made him happy, hopeful, confused, scared, and more than anything just achingly curious. He wanted to ask questions like why, for how long, did he think it was okay, was he religious too; he wanted to ask Antonio everything.

But at the same time there was lingering feeling. An instinct, a habit. If it's true, he wanted to run away more than ever. It was too tempting.

Antonio was still looking at him, waiting patiently, his kind smile still hovering everywhere in the air, comforting him and making his skin buzz. He was waiting for Lovino to finish – Lovino thought Antonio knew what he's going to ask him. Maybe that should make it easier, but it doesn't.

Then the door swung open and florescent light illuminated them. It illuminated the situation too, and Lovino panicked inside. What was he thinking? He–

"Lovi!" Feliciano exclaimed, quickly enveloping his brother in an embrace. He pulled back and talked fast. "Why were you gone so late? Did the date go very well? But you're so dirty! What happened? Oh – Antonio! What are you doing here?"

Lovino held his head in frustration, meanwhile Antonio laughed.

"Hello Feli! Sorry to bother you, I was just helping Lovino home," he explained easily.

"You weren't helping me, because I don't need any help," Lovino contradicted and attempted to flash him a glare until those bright, green eyes were just too nerve-wracking too look at.

"Yes, of course. I was just accompanying Lovi home after he fell off of his motorcycle," Antonio corrected, amusement thick in his voice.

"You damn bastar –"

"What? Lovi! You fell off of your motorcycle? Are you okay? Are you hurt? It was the rain, wasn't it? Oh, no. Nonno's going to be so upset when I tell him!" Feliciano rambled, his hands hovering over Lovino's body to over his head.

"I'm fine! It was just a slip. I wasn't hurt at all, so you sure as hell better not tell him about this," Lovino countered alternating his fist between Antonio and Feliciano.

"Vee~ you're sure?" Feliciano tilted his head, and looked at his brother with wide, worrying eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Not a scratch," Lovino insisted, deliberately ignoring the disapproving sighs from Antonio's direction. "Come on Feli, let's just go inside." He pushed Feliciano towards the doorway, following closely behind him.

"Aw, let me just say good night to Toni! He did help you out!" Feli said and maneuvered out of Lovino's grasp to give Antonio a quick hug. "Grazie Toni! I know Lovino can be rude, but I'm sure he was happy to have you with him," he proclaimed boldly, and took a step closer to whisper something in Antonio's ear.

"Hey!" Lovino yelled, ears hot with embarrassment. He didn't like how Antonio's face brightened with interest at whatever Feli was saying. "Hey! What the fuck are you doing?"

Feliciano turned around, smiling and giggling. "Nothing! Just telling him good night!"

"Good night my ass! Whatever, just get in the fucking house," Lovino shouted tiredly, groaning aloud when Feli gave Antonio another hug. Finally, Feliciano skipped away and hopped back into the house. Lovino lingered by the doorway, holding the frame and looked awkwardly at Antonio.

"Wasn't there something you wanted to ask me?" Antonio asked, his face more confident than it was before, his eyes strong and emerald.

Lovino ducked his face away, too afraid. "It doesn't matter," he muttered quietly, feeling too painfully obvious under the scrutinizing light.

But Antonio didn't press, and suddenly Lovino felt a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around. Antonio grinned at him, tan skin and white teeth shining in the half-light, but eyes gentle and sincere.

"Well, you can ask me later if you like. Good night, Lovi," he said.

Lovino felt too warm. "Yeah," he choked and took a step away from Antonio's touch, and through the doorway. He held the door, ready to close it and stopped to watch Antonio leave.

When Antonio was well past the house and half-way down the path he looked over his shoulder, and Lovino squeaked in horror and slammed the door shut. His heart was beating frantically, pulsing in his chest, but still, through the door and the distance, he could hear Antonio laughing. Maybe he couldn't have really heard it, but he simply knew it was there anyway.

"That bastard," he muttered and stumbled towards the kitchen.

Feliciano was there, scooping out ice cream, and looked up when he heard Lovino. "Oh, so Lovi, how was your date?"

Lovino fished an opened bottle of wine from the refrigerator. "Fine," he said simply.

"Was it fun?" Feliciano asked, intently watching his brother's face.

Lovino pulled out a glass and started pouring. "Yeah. Emma's nice."

"Hm," Feli hummed. "Are you going to invite her to the wine tasting on Saturday?"

"Yeah," Lovino answered, then took a sip and spoke again. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Why is that?" Feliciano prodded, brown eyes glittering with interest.

"Um, well," Lovino scratched his head and his cheeks warmed. "She's just a bit forward. She might take it the wrong way."

Feliciano bit back a smile. "Oh, that's interesting. You don't like that she's forward?"

"I-it's just kind of uncomfortable," Lovino admitted and poured another glass of wine. Then he realized something and his face gleamed in anger. "And by the way, what the fuck were you whispering to Antonio about?"

"Oh, nothing!" Feliciano giggled. "Don't worry about it!"

"It wasn't nothing, damn it. Just tell me!" Lovino demanded, pointing at Feliciano with his glass.

"Well," Feli began dramatically. "I only thanked him for helping you. And I said that you seemed to like being around him."

Lovino's breath hitched. "I what?"

Feliciano blinked, confused about the change in his brother's voice. "It seems like you like him, that's all."

"Why would you think that? Because I don't like him – at all," Lovino snapped, his eyes wide in worry and fear.

"Really? It just looked like when you two are together, you seem happy," Feli said, trying to understand his brother's lies.

Lovino turned around, tired of being stared at. "I'm never happy when I'm with him. I hate it. I hate it so much."

"But," Feli protested, and caught himself when he caught Lovino's shoulder's quivering. He didn't want to make his brother sad, but it just seemed so obvious, he didn't understand the lie. So he decided to let it go for the night, and exhaled quietly. "Alright, _scusa_."

Lovino stopped shaking but kept his back turned. Then he grabbed the bottle of wine and stomped towards the stairs.

Feliciano watched his brother go and echoed a lonely "_buonanotte_" to himself.

~/~

The next morning, Lovino woke up aching everywhere and with a head that seemed too cloudy to think. He'd drunk too much wine the night before. Somehow, with closed eyes he managed to find his phone, poised precariously on the nightstand where he'd left it, and he hung it before his face to check the time.

It was already noon.

He groaned, and dropped the phone back on the bed. There was so much to do before he's supposed to leave, what was he thinking letting himself sleep in this late? What was Feliciano thinking?

Against all odds, he got up and went through the hangover routine. Drink water, take a shower, brush his teeth, put on new clothes, and go downstairs to consume some sort of bread. There was still a lingering feeling of guilt in his head from abandoning Feliciano last night, but with all that happened, he had no option but to brush him off.

Tino was in the middle of the kitchen staring at a vase of flowers looking remarkable confused.

When he heard Lovino's clumsy footsteps echo into the room, he turned around with a quick smile. "Oh, Lovino! You're finally up! Feliciano already left for town to get some groceries. He thought he'd let you sleep in."

"That's fine," Lovino grumbled, as he began slicing through a loaf of bread.

"How was your date last night?" Tino asked, alternating his glances from Lovino to the flowers again.

"It was fine," Lovino replied automatically and pushed the bread into the toaster. He was tired of people asking him about it. When he finally noticed the outrageous bouquet of flowers he changed the subject, "What the hell are those?"

Tino's face brightened, almost bashful. "These? Oh, I'm not exactly sure. They were on the doorstep this morning. At first I thought they might be for you, from Emma," he said, gesturing to the flowers again. "But um, the card said they were for, um, me."

"Uh-huh," Lovino mumbled in acknowledgment, roaming his eyes over the strange accents of pinecones and twigs. "Who are they from?"

"Well," Tino giggled, taking out a small white card. "It doesn't say. I think it's from a secret admirer."

Lovino almost rolled his eyes. This was all too ridiculous to him. Secret admirers and anonymous bouquets? He didn't think people still did that.

But the look of confused happiness on Tino's face…damn it. It kind of made him jealous.

The toast popped out and Lovino awkwardly pushed it onto a plate. "So you have no idea who it is?"

Tino hummed in thought. "No, I don't think so. I don't talk to many people in town really."

Lovino shook his head, tired and annoyed with the situation. "Well, I'm going outside to eat," he announced, and walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh, there's something outside for you too!" Tino called after him, loud like it just occurred to him.

Lovino already had his hand on the doorknob and was pulling it open. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "What the hell would there be for me?" Tino didn't have to answer though, because with the door partially open he already caught view of his shiny, black motorcycle – a bit dented in parts, but otherwise okay – leaning against the side of the house.

At once, he knew who did it, and he couldn't help but blush in happiness. It was stupid, reckless, and really just stupid. Did Antonio really waste his night moving Lovino's motorcycle from its battered landing all the way over here? That idiot. That dumb, sweet idiot.

When he caught himself for saying the word sweet in his mind, his ears reddened too. Since he was still in the doorway, and Tino was still standing in the other room, waiting for his reaction, Lovino cleared his throat. Then quietly, he mumbled. "So Antonio moved it?"

"He did! Berwald was here this morning when I was picking up the flowers, and he said Antonio drove the truck out last night and picked up the motorcycle. Then I guess he brought it back here," Tino explained, still preening the various elements in the bouquet.

Lovino's heart stuttered, but he kept his voice the usual and asked, "So where's the idiot now?"

"Hm, I think he's still in the fields. They're probably going to have lunch soon though, and I think I'll drop off some lemonade. Would you like to come with me?"

"No," Lovino replied quickly, and he shut the door. "I'm going to go check on the cellar for tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," Tino said, and watched Lovino head towards the stairs curiously. "You know Feli already set everything up, right?"

"Yeah, whatever," Lovino muttered and disappeared around the corner. He wasn't going to take any chances of seeing Antonio today. He might have to see him tomorrow, but at least today…he needed to away from him. Away from that smile, those eyes, and all of the burning desire to ask that damned question. Why did Emma ever have to bring it up?

~/~

After lunch, Antonio took a walk up the trail, set on taking a small siesta under that lemon tree. But he'd be lying if he wasn't hoping to see Lovino somewhere near too.

As he neared he caught a glimpse of dark hair and tan skin, but once he was within seeing distance he could tell it was lighter brown hair, and fairer tan skin. Feliciano was sitting on the bench near the tomato plants scribbling something in a blue book. While Antonio was internally debating whether to stop by or not, Feliciano heard his footsteps and looked up. He smiled brightly and waved, and Antonio couldn't escape going over.

"_Ciao _Antonio, how are you?" Feliciano asked and patted a spot next to him for Antonio to sit down.

He did, and returned the smile. "I'm good. Kind of tired. Very sore," he laughed rubbing the muscles in his arm. Antonio noticed the melancholy air surrounding Feliciano and tilted his head. "What's wrong Feli?"

"Oh," Feliciano caught himself and laughed. "I'm sorry, it's nothing. I was just thinking about things. It's been pretty busy lately."

Antonio nodded and looked out at the vineyards. "_Si_, I agree. There's always a lot to do." He closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air hungrily. "But there's the wine tasting tomorrow. That's something to look forward to." Oddly enough, he was.

Feliciano giggled again, slightly happier. "That's true. It will be. I'm excited for everything. I'm just a bit sad," he said, looking down at his book. It looked like a jumble of sketches and words. "Lovino's leaving the day after."

Antonio blinked. "What?"

"Lovino's leaving," Feliciano repeated, and he shut his book with a sigh. "I knew he was leaving soon, but I thought maybe it'd be in another week."

"Wait…" Antonio tried to wrap his head around this. Why had he thought Lovino would be here forever? That there were hundreds of days in front of them? "So Lovino, when he said he was visiting…that means he still lives in Verona?"

Feliciano drummed his fingers over his book. "Not exactly. Lovino works here mainly. He and I run this property. But Lovino also runs the marketing ends and the business side. He's going to San Francisco for a bit, but then I think he'll be traveling to Los Angeles, New York, and probably Verona after." Feliciano hung his head and added, "But I don't know when he's coming back. I'm going to be so lonely without him."

"Yeah," Antonio said, numb, confused, thoughtful. "So will I."

There was a quiet moment, filled with feeling and agitation. Feli spoke again, "He changed his flight."

"Huh?"

"He changed it. He wasn't supposed to leave this week."

"Oh," Antonio echoed, trying to climb out of the daze. "Why?"

"He wouldn't say," Feliciano hummed, and his eyes passed over Antonio's with a keen shine.

Antonio read his expression curiously, and guessed, "But you know."

Feliciano pursed his lips and stared at Antonio, debating what and what not to say. "I think," he began slowly. "I think Lovino's a bit confused right now."

Antonio held his gaze, not daring to hope anything. "About what?"

"He," Feliciano looked at the ground, trying to find his words. "Well, _we_ went to a pretty strict Catholic school for a while. I didn't pay much attention really, but Lovino was very affected by it." Feliciano pushed a rock around with his shoe. "I think he's confused about what he thinks is right. And what he wants."

"Is your family very strict too?"

"Oh no," Feliciano waved his hand with a ready smile. "I don't think our grandfather cares about religion at all. Most Italians are Catholic, but not many are very strict about it."

Antonio exhaled, very relieved. "That's good. It's always harder with families."

Feliciano's eyes glinted, but he continued anyway, and said, "Well, I think Lovino's still scared about many things. He's very desperate to do what's right."

"Is that so?" Antonio replied, his heart alive with confidence. This seemed like a confirmation of what he'd been dreaming he's been seeing. It wasn't much, but there were times when he thought he deciphered those molten gold-brown eyes, and he could read desire and fear sparkling across mysteriously. And although Lovino was so often blushing – and it was completely adorable – sometimes it felt as though he was redder near him. Lovino was like a little sun to Antonio. He was warm, burning, untouchable, but Antonio wanted to get closer. He needed the sun. It was everything to him.

But would Lovino ever come close? He was already flying away, and it hadn't yet been a month. If only Lovino talked to him, maybe Antonio could help him understand. Because he knows what it's like to be confused, afraid, criticized; he's known much worse.

"I meant what I said by the way."

Antonio's breath hitched, and he turned back to Feliciano. "What?"

"Last night. Lovino does like you. I can tell."

Antonio laughed, a bit disbelievingly, but also ecstatic that perhaps Feliciano might be telling the truth. Interested is one thing, but he didn't think Lovino actually liked him at all.

"Antonio," he said, calling his attention. Feliciano looked at him boldly, trying his best to convince him, because he knew it. He knew his brother better than anyone else. "Trust me. He does."

Antonio smiled quietly. He wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He had hope, but he's already lost so many people he loved because of who he was. His heart had been shattered too many times before his friends put him back together. It hurt him so much, it was a crippling loneliness, because there was no way he knew to fix it. There was nothing he could do. Pretending was hard for him. Some could, but Antonio found it hard to be anything but himself. It was always that way.

But…maybe he'd take a chance on Lovino.

He laughed again. It's not like he had a choice anyway.

~/~

"Lovi!" Emma exclaimed and captured him in a hug.

Lovino stumbled, trying to catch his balance, and his nose was all of a sudden overwhelmed by tulips and vanilla.

She pulled back with a sly smile and kissed him fast on the lips. Her eyes twinkled and she said, "I missed you."

Lovino stood there still a bit stunned. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, but for most of it he was distracted by the tall, looming figure behind her. "Um, who's that?"

"Oh," Emma turned around and nudged the man. "This is my brother! I told you about him, remember? His name's Tim."

Lovino warily looked at him. Tim wasn't as tall as Berwald, but he was definitely taller than Antonio. It kind of pissed him off that there were so many tall people floating around.

Then suddenly Tim was in front of him extending his hand. "Hello, Lovino. Nice to meet you."

Lovino clasped hands with him. It was hard to tell if he meant it. "Nice to meet you too." He paused, waiting for his hand to be released. It wasn't and Tim kept staring at him with frosty blue eyes. "Um, Emma told me about the wedding. I'm sorry I can't go."

Tim let go of his hand. "It's fine." He looked through the door. "You have a nice house," he commented and walked in.

"Um, thanks," Lovino muttered, watching him wander around the hallway touching the vases and lamps. He looked back to Emma and raised an eyebrow. "What the hell was that about?"

Emma giggled and patted Lovino shoulder. "I'm sorry. I think he's just happy to meet you."

"That was happy?"

Her smile twisted secretly. "Well, I think he's happy that you're rich actually. He's always been worried I would marry someone poor."

"Oh, well I guess that," he stopped, repeating her words in his head. "Wait – _marry_?" His voice rose in panic, but he hoped his face was at least smooth.

Emma didn't even bother to answer, and swiftly hooked her arm through Lovino's and steered him into the house.

~/~

"Oh, so this is what a cellar looks like, huh?" Emma commented, twisting her figure all around to get all views of the candle-lit place. "It's rather cold in here though."

"Well, eleven degrees Celsius is considered the perfect temperature for storing – what are you doing?" Lovino stared at Emma who'd deftly managed to loop her arms around Lovino's again, making him lean further to the side in his chair.

She looked up at him through her lashes, eyes shining more yellow than green. "Just keeping warm."

Lovino couldn't help but roll his eyes, and when Emma laughed at that, he just sighed. This was going to make it rather inconvenient to talk to Roderich, but hopefully Emma would let him go for that.

So far there were a few people scattered around, Emma's brother being one of them. He was busy inspecting the collection of wine bottles though. Probably looking for a price-tag, Lovino thought. Then there was a sudden rush of noise, obnoxious voices all mixed together, and Lovino knew the main crowd had arrived.

"So who else is coming," Emma asked, glancing down at her phone once before shoving it away in her purse.

"Um, well Roderich and Elizaveta for one," Lovino said as he pointed to the couple walking down the stairs. Then a silver-haired, ivory pale man jumped down the steps, looking very rowdy in torn jeans and a leather jacket. Lovino narrowed his eyes in confusion, but when Antonio's bright face appeared, everything fit together. Lovino averted his eyes with an embarrassed blush. "A-and Antonio brought his friend Gilbert."

"Is that so," Emma said, and her gaze stayed on the duo as they sat down near Elizaveta and Roderich. It didn't escape her attention how Antonio's eyes immediately darted around the room in search of someone. When they landed on Lovino, who was still busy staring at his hands, Emma pursed her lips in suspicion. Antonio followed the link between Lovino and Emma, and he matched her gaze.

He gave her a small smile, but even from across the room, Emma could tell it was mocking. He didn't even seem annoyed, which in turn made Emma all the more so.

So she curled her lips in a cat-like smile and whispered into Lovino's ear, "Lovi…" Her eyes flicked across the room again. "Antonio's looking at us."

His head shot up, first in Emma's direction, then tentatively in Antonio's. He was still watching, and that alone made Lovino's face redden. How could he be so warm when it was supposed to be so cool down here? To make matters worse, it looked like Antonio was laughing. He seemed amused by something.

"Um," Lovino breathed, desperate for air all of a sudden. "I don't know why. He's probably bored. Or something."

"Maybe," Emma said, and kissed Lovino's cheek playfully. She frowned when it didn't seem as though Antonio noticed.

Feliciano walked in with Tino behind him; Tino was carrying another basket of pieces of bread, and laid on the table with the others. Feliciano was well dressed in slacks and a dark purple button-down, and seemed almost giddy as he started opening the first bottle.

Lovino had sort of insisted it should be Feliciano leading the wine tasting, not only because he's the more charming, sociable one, but Lovino also has very little patience for people who don't know anything.

As Lovino was looking around the room again, making very sure to miss Antonio's little corner, and he spotted an unknown blond man. He didn't look like anyone he'd met or talked about.

"Feli," Lovino called and tried to get his brother's attention.

After some snapping and wild hand gestures, Feliciano finally noticed and skipped to Lovino's side. "What is it?"

"Who's that guy over there?"

Feliciano matched where he was pointing and stared. "Oh! That's another wine critic. He works for a newspaper in San Francisco."

"Really."

"_Si_! It was actually Alfred who mentioned him to me. His name's Matthew. Apparently they're brothers, isn't that strange?"

Lovino noticed how reserved he was, keeping to himself and writing in his Moleskin notebook. "Yeah, I guess. When are we starting by the way?'

Feliciano glanced down at his watch and jumped. "Oh! We should be starting now actually!" He hurried back to the center table and steadied himself. "_Ciao _everyone! I'm Feliciano Vargas, co-manager of the _Tesoro_ brand here in California. We're going to go through a series of our most popular wines today." He held up one of the bottles for a moment before passing it onto Tino. "And we're going to start with our Valpolicella wine. It's a red wine made from Corvina Veronese, Rondinella and Molinara, and it's famous for being from the province of Verona."

Tino went around pouring everyone a small serving of the wine.

"This is a light, fragrant wine that compliments almost any meal," Feliciano went on, and he joined everybody in taking a sip. His was a larger portion though, and he finished it quickly.

Lovino watched as Roderich and Matthew went about it in the familiar, meticulous manner most wine critics do. Hold the glass up and examine the color, a quick swirl, then bring it to your nose and take in the scent, and finally take a sip. Of course, after a few moments, they both spit it out in the cup placed beside them – if you're going to be evaluating one wine after the other, it's only appropriate to be sober when doing so.

On instinct, Lovino also glanced at Antonio, to see his reaction. It didn't look like he was too pleased by the wine. His face was slightly scrunched in displeasure. Lovino rolled his eyes. That man just can't handle red wine.

"Okay, now we're going to try a different variety of the same wine, called Amarone della Valpolicella. This is typically a richer, dry red wine made from partially dried grapes of the Corvina, Rondinella, as well as some others." Again, Feliciano finished his glass in no more than two gulps.

Lovino knew he was going to be tipsy by the end of this.

Roderich seemed pleased with the wine. Matthew slightly ambivalent. And of course, Antonio was very, very displeased, but finished the glass nonetheless. Too damn polite for his own good, Lovino thought.

Tino went around with the basket of bread and offered to everyone who wanted it to cleanse their palates.

"Moving right along," Feliciano clapped, excited. "We have the Recioto della Valpolicella. This is a sweet red wine typically paired with chocolate desserts because of its high acidity in cocoa."

Roderich and Matthew both appeared rather happy. Elizaveta finished Roderich's glass one he was finished with his demure sip. Gilbert wasn't very shy about showing his distaste. He blatantly stuck his tongue out and handed the glass to Antonio who, unsurprisingly, was inhaling the wine with a happy smile.

Lovino rubbed his temples. If Antonio was going to drink his wine and Gilbert's, and not spit out any of it…Well shit. He looked like a lightweight.

~/~

At the seven wine mark, they were drinking a light, white wine, and those that had been drinking full glasses were getting pretty tipsy. Most noticeably was Elizaveta, who was fawning over Roderich's shoulder and playing with a strange hair loop. Gilbert was rowdy, but Lovino assumed that was more by his own doing and that mysterious flask than the wine. He'd already jumped across the room to invade Matthew's personal space: doodling birds all over Matthew's notebook. Someone might've said something if it looked like Gilbert was actually bothering him, but it appeared as though Matthew was actually enjoying the scene.

Emma was almost sleeping on Lovino's shoulder; she was obviously the type that got sleepy when drunk. Lovino secretly made a note of that. He tried to catch Tim's attention, so someone would lift her body off of his, but it looked like he was busy smuggling the wine into a plastic bottle.

They were on their tenth wine now, the last one. Feli was laughing and joking, and Tino was going along with him. Gilbert was still drawing with Matthew, Elizaveta seemed content with her work on playing with Roderich's face, and finally Tim decided to drag Emma's body away to lay down on a comfortable bench near him.

Lovino sighed in relief, it tired him out to support her. He doesn't dislike her, really. There's something sweet and salty about her personality that intrigues him in a way, because he can never really predict her. At the same time however, he can't help but feel trapped with her. She wants to do things that he just doesn't. Kissing's one problem, but even touching is just odd. Like bland and weird at the same time.

With the wine tasting coming to a close, Lovino glanced over at Antonio, who he'd be tactfully avoiding since Emma latched onto him. But it was strange. Antonio didn't seem…happy. He was smiling, sure, but what did that smile really mean? He was always fucking smiling. There was something more in his expression. He wasn't talking, only a few words to Roderich, but instead he was focused on the wall rather thoughtfully. His eyes looked so far away. There was a glimmer in them from the lamp, and they were just melancholy. Lovino wished he could go over there and pull Antonio back to him. The Antonio that infuriated and embarrassed him so much.

At the closing, Gilbert suddenly stood up and walked over to the center table. He raised a flask, a different one than before and prepared to make a speech. "Ladies and gentlemen," he turned his head towards Matthew to offer an exaggerated wink. "There's a special announcement I'd like to make."

"Oh, shit," Lovino muttered

"Well, I have two actually. No – three. Yeah, three," he nodded to himself. "So first of all, I'd like to announce that my little brother, the notorious Ludwig, has earned a shadowing position for my dear, dear ex, Dr. Eilzaveta Edelstein." There were scattered claps around, but only Elizaveta gave any approving "whoos." Gilbert cleared his throat. "And secondly, I'd like everyone to meet my new friend, who's sitting right over there," he twisted around with a point. "Matthew Williams. The hottest new guy in town. Go check him out, but not really. Because seriously I just called dibs."

Matthew's smile disappeared beneath his hands, but even with his face covered his ears were still radiating a bright red.

Gilbert laughed, and wobbled as he tried to remember what came next. He stood to attention, his hand slamming on the table in exaggeration. "Three! Because I just can't leave him out: my best friend Antonio deserves a shout-out," he flashed his shining, white teeth. "Even though he's a goofball, and hopeless, and too nice, and always outside for one reason or another…He's a pretty good guy." Gilbert stopped, and Antonio laughed. "And listen man, I'm sorry you're not rich anymore. But I promise one day I'll make enough money for the both of us and we'll never have to work again."

Lovino's shoulders stiffened; that last part was unexpected. Gilbert's drunk out of his mind, but what does it mean when he says Antonio's not rich anymore. He had money once? How'd he lose it? Gambling? Was it stolen? It's so vague, what the fucking hell?

Demanding more answers, his eyes flicked to Antonio again, but he was shrugging his shoulders helplessly with a light chuckle, as if saying, "I'm sorry, but what can I do?"

Lovino felt angry at him. He was angry at him for not being angry himself.

Now that Gilbert was running up the steps however, Feliciano took it upon himself to state a few parting words, mentioning things about how and where to purchase wine, our website, and what's coming next for us. Matthew approached him with his notebook and they struck up a conversation. Lovino thought about visiting Roderich, but he seemed fairly preoccupied with convincing Elizaveta towards the exit. Perhaps he could just email Roderich later.

"Good bye Lovino," Tim said.

Lovino turned to his side and Tim was carrying Emma over his shoulder, with his right hand extended.

"Oh," Lovino breathed. "Good bye. Sorry about Emma."

"She'll be fine," Tim answered calmly, and started following the rest up the stairs. He was most definitely carrying a bag of red and yellow covered bottles.

Antonio wasn't downstairs, Lovino noticed. And the realization made his heart lonely. So with fleeting hope, he followed the crowd and went up to the foyer. Feliciano was the kissing cheeks of every person walking through the door, the last he met was Tim, who had to bend over rather awkwardly with all that he was carrying. But of course, Feliciano managed, and Tim left with another nod in Lovino's direction.

Feliciano closed the door and waved his hand next to his face, trying to fan himself. "Finally. I was getting so warm! I think I need to take a shower or something," he commented, walking towards the kitchen in search of some ice.

Lovino awkwardly stood by as Feliciano passed in front of him. "Um," he called quietly, shyly.

Feliciano didn't turn around but echoed a loud, "_Si_!"

Lovino took a deep breath. "D-did Antonio already leave?"

At the sound of that name, Feliciano's face shot in his direction. "Antonio? Why do you want to know?" It wasn't accusatory, it almost sounded ecstatic.

"I just," Lovino looked down, his cheeks burning. He was telling himself it was the wine that was making him do this. It was only the wine. "I-I'm leaving tomorrow, so I thought maybe I'd just say goodbye."

He couldn't see Feliciano's expression, but he expected an obnoxious smile. "I think that's a great idea. I think he went over to the lemon tree. The one over there."

"Oh, okay," Lovino mumbled, knowing straightaway which one it was. It's the tree Antonio always rested under. Lovino has seen him there many times. "W-well, I'll be right back."

"Take your time!" Feliciano called, giggling.

~/~

Antonio was there. He was sitting cross-legged, his arms hunched over his knees, watching over the view of the vineyards as they rolled over the hills. As quietly as he could, Lovino walked over, but he stumbled over some twigs and pebbles, so Antonio was quick to notice him.

Antonio turned around, tan skin and green eyes lit by the waves of sunlight and shadowed by the leaves, he looked so mysterious, so out of Lovino's reach all of a sudden. But then he smiled, warm and invitingly as usual, and Lovino's breath came easier.

"Lovino," Antonio said, his accent a bit rougher. "Are you coming to join me?" He gestured to a place next to him, inviting Lovino to sit down.

Lovino hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Of course he had come to join him, but it seemed like giving in to just do it. But he gritted his teeth and gave a curt, "Yes." Then he plopped down in a second, and settled a good foot away from Antonio.

"How very kind of you," Antonio jeered joyfully, his voice much brighter than his eyes. There was still something foreign in them that Lovino couldn't understand.

They held eye contact for too long, and Lovino quickly whipped his gaze to the grass. He picked at the blades and tossed them around. "So how did you like the wine?"

"It was good!" He said straight-away, then he pursed his lips and laughed. "Well, I liked the dessert wines a lot. But some of the white wines are nice too. I think red is just a bit difficult for me."

Lovino groaned. "You know, red wine is the true wine. They say to never trust a person who loves white wine."

"They say that?" Antonio asked, a bit surprised. "I don't think I've ever heard that before."

"Why would you?"

Antonio's smile tightened in secretive amusement. "Well, I may not know wine, but my parents did. They tried to teach me all sorts of stuff about it. They didn't make it or anything, but it was one of their passions."

"Oh," Lovino said, confused and interested at the same time. "I didn't know that."

"Mhm," Antonio hummed, smiling a bit broader. He leaned his arms behind himself, almost grazing Lovino with his fingertips in the process.

The almost was enough to make Lovino's heart race in anticipation. He found himself breathless again, and his forehead beaded sweat nervously. Now he debated whether this was a bad idea. The wine really was getting to him. What was he thinking talking to Antonio now? He could've not done anything and left tomorrow. What was this leading to? Lovino shouldn't be talking to him more than he has to. This is dangerous. This is…this is…

Antonio chuckled.

_Dangerous._

"W-what are you laughing at, bastard?" Lovino asked defensively, his hands tightening in a grip on his pants.

Antonio turned to him, face charming. "Nothing. I'm just happy. I was worried I might not see you before you leave."

"Oh," Lovino looked down ashamed. "You know?"

"Feliciano told me. I was pretty surprised."

Lovino's heart stuttered nervously, guiltily. "Yeah, well, there's stuff to do and…stuff. I have to visit places and talk to people and all that."

Antonio nodded in understanding. "Sounds busy."

"It is."

The birds chirped. It looked like the sun would set soon.

"How long will you be away for?"

"Um," Lovino paused and picked up a flower. "I-I'm not sure." He pressed his lips together and thought. "Three months maybe?" Lovino could feel eyes on his back.

"Three months?"

"Yeah."

The irrigation turned on, and they both decided to stare at that.

"That's a long time," Antonio commented, his smile falling away.

Lovino nodded his head in silent agreement. His throat felt tight right now. He just wanted to cry into Antonio's arms for some reason. For any reason. Maybe for everything.

"Antonio…" Lovino began reluctantly. He shut his eyes in dread.

"Yes?"

"C-can I ask you that question from the other day?"

Antonio's eyelashes fluttered as he remembered. "_Si_, of course."

Lovino picked at the petals, plucking one out every second. "Um, a-are you like, attracted to women?"

There was a pause. Lovino hated it.

He heard Antonio breathe, and then say, "Yes."

Now Lovino's heart stopped. This was even worse. How could he have been so stupid to even assume? It was so embarrassing. What would Antonio think of him now? So stupid. He's just so incredibly stupid.

But a few seconds later, Antonio was sitting upright again, his hand right next to Lovino's. "But," Antonio began, a smile in his voice. "I'm also attracted to men."

Everything stopped.

Lovino turned around, not even stunned by the proximity. He was so close to Antonio now, he could see everything: the freckles near his nose, the sunburn on his neck, even the enigmatic mist to his emerald-green eyes. Antonio was thinking something Lovino couldn't figure out, maybe that he didn't know, or maybe he just didn't understand. And Antonio's hand: he was touching it. It was warm. That's not surprising, Lovino was sure every part of Antonio was warm, he doubted if he was ever less than room temperature.

But what he said: he's attracted to women and men. Lovino's heard of that of course, but what does that mean? Is that a good thing?

He never looked away from Antonio, and breathed, "Oh." His eyes flickered all around. "That's, um, different."

Antonio laughed quickly, shortly, it sounded almost nervous. "I suppose it is." His hand moved, and Lovino wished so much it wouldn't have.

From the corner of his eye he watched Antonio intertwine his fingers together. It looked like he was trying not to let his stress show. On impulse Lovino muttered, "But, um," he paused when Antonio looked to him again. "I-it's not bad."

Antonio's eyes widened, sparkling in bewilderment. Then his lips turned up, it was much more sensitive smile than Lovino had ever seen. "Thank you," he said.

"Whatever," he mumbled, turning his flushed face away.

There was another silence. It was filled with Antonio's happy aura.

"What about you?" He asked.

Lovino choked on his surprise. "Huh?"

It was lucky Lovino couldn't see the amusement sparking across Antonio's face. He repeated, "Are you attracted to women?"

"Um," he began, desperate for some sure-fire answer that wouldn't come. Was he? It's not that he didn't like to look at women. He even found them pretty. He complimented them all the time. Kissing them wasn't disgusting. It was boring, but he wasn't repulsed. The only thing is…

The thought of marrying one. Of spending the rest of life with one girl: that seemed impossible. Like he just couldn't do it. He wanted that life. He wanted so much to have the normal, standard future, with a wife and kids; but he just, he doesn't know if he could go through with it. And having sex with a girl? His body grew cold at the thought.

But admitting he wasn't attracted to girls. Well, it hasn't been proven that he wasn't yet. And he wanted to be. He really, really does. Because Lovino just can't be gay, he just can't. If he was, he would be everything wrong, and he's already such a screw-up.

"I," he started again. "Yeah."

Another pause. Antonio took it in: Lovino's posture, the closed eyes, the shaking hands. He was lying.

"Oh, I see," Antonio replied smoothly, not daring to break Lovino's willpower.

Lovino nodded again, as extra confirmation. His teeth were sinking deep into his lip, he thought it might start bleeding. His throat was so dangerously tight, tears were already pricking the corners of his eyes. Why was lying to Antonio so hard?

"Lovino," Antonio said, voice smooth, comforting, like silk.

"Yes," Lovino blurted, his voice weakened by a silent sob.

Antonio moved closer and waited for Lovino to look at him. He smiled, as gently as he could. "May I have a hug? As goodbye, I mean."

Lovino's breath was unsteady. He closed his eyes and mumbled, "Yes."

Antonio wrapped his arms around him, strong and secure around the shaking, thin body. Lovino didn't even protest; he couldn't, or his voice might break. And he didn't want to, because though he can lie, he couldn't deny how wonderful it was to hug Antonio. His heart thrummed, and his skin shivered. His hands moved behind Antonio's back without him realizing, now he was close enough to feel Antonio's heartbeat. It was loud and fast too. It was perfect.

"I'll miss you, you know?" Antonio whispered, taking the opportunity to run his fingers through Lovino's soft brown hair.

Lovino took in one last inhale in the crook of Antonio's shoulder. It was such a subtle scent, but it was fresh and grounded like a garden. "I'll miss you too."

He would miss him. The scent, the warmth, the accent, the laugh, the eyes. He would miss everything.

But he has to go. Maybe if left, he'll forget this. He'll forget all of this. And maybe, when he came back, he won't feel a thing. Three months was a long time.

With every bone in his body, Lovino hoped for a miracle.

* * *

~/~

* * *

_Since this weekend will be hectic as hell, I'm not sure how soon the next chapter will be up. It'll be partially collaborated with my beta/sister, since she's in charge of all Jeanne scenes, so look forward to that. It's the transition chapter into the summer arc. If you haven't seen my profile - I tend to write out my tentative outlines there - this story will be divided into three seasonal arcs. Each of them about five chapters long. Summer will be very eventful :3 So I'm excited. _

_Thank you so, so much for reading! I'll be back very soon. _

_Please review :)_


	5. Chapter Five: Cabernet Sauvignon

_So, so sorry for the wait. Hopefully I've finally moved past the worst of my stress and I can finally return to a more regular writing schedule. Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! That really helped me pick this up again, despite my exhaustion xD _

_So, as I mentioned at the end of last chapter, the Jeanne scenes will be written by my beta. She's a wonderful writer, but her style is slightly different than mine. I hope the switch isn't too distracting from the storyline, but we did our best to intertwine our pieces._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter :)_

* * *

_*Erika - female!Iceland_

_*Abel - Denmark_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_Cabernet Sauvignon – is a French red wine grape variety often distinguished fruity richness in flavor with an earthy, tobacco, chocolate, or woody finish._

~/~

It was bright. Very, very bright.

Francis's eyelids fluttered, and he groaned at the attack of sunlight. His hands moved towards his face, rubbing traces of sleep from his eyes, and wiping some of the stray blond locks away from his forehead. Finally, he was able to focus through his squinting, and he stared at a lamp. It was tall, frilly, pink…he didn't own a lamp like that.

_Oh._

Everything clicked at once: the bar, the dancing, the girl, the flirting, the hotel. He was still in San Francisco, and he was still in her hotel room. He turned over to look, and she wasn't there; then he heard the faint roar of the shower, and he breathed. It was time to make his escape.

Rapidly, Francis pulled back the covers and stumbled to his feet. He stumbled slightly, the alcohol still buzzing in his veins, but having plenty of experience, he was able to maneuver into his clothes. Once the pants were on, the shoes tied, and the shirt half-way buttoned, he heard the water turn off. That was his cue to leave, and he didn't waste anymore time in diving out.

He was sure to leave a note though.

_Mon chère,_

_I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. Your fiancé would be lucky to have you._

_With all my love,_

_Francis_

~/~

For the next two hours, Francis sat idly at a café, staring at the people walking by and waiting for Gilbert's car to roll around the corner. He decided to stay in San Francisco for the weekend, and he'd hoped Antonio and Gilbert were going to come with him, but both of them claimed to be "too busy," and he was left alone to find amusement. Sure, he had fun. There were beautiful people, beautiful stores, he bought a fabulous new watch; but even so, he felt lost.

What was he even doing? Working of course, but is that all? Francis loved the wine industry and his family's company, but how come there was still such a large part of him that felt unfulfilled? He was empty. And he always felt so bored.

His phone buzzed and he looked down.

**Gilbert – I'm here**

With a sigh, and a fast smile, Francis said his goodbyes to the waitresses, left his extravagant tip, and walked out of the building. He looked right and left with no sign of Gilbert's car, but before he could send a text, his phone buzzed again.

**Gilbert – I'm waving my hand at you**

Francis narrowed his eyes I confusion, and looked up for any sign. He saw a hand moving, but it was in the wrong car. This car was shiny and red and…merde. Gilbert bought a new car.

The car honked, still trying to get Francis's attention, and with a groan, Francis walked towards it.

The window was rolled down and Gilbert grinned excitedly, his red eyes gleaming. "So what do you think?"

"Is this what happened to that money you owe me?" Francis asked, pursing his lips in disapproval, and sliding his finger across the metal suspiciously.

Gilbert chuckled, not even ashamed. "Aw, come on! You don't really need it! And I've been wanting a new car forever. Isn't it awesome?"

Francis rolled his eyes. "You're never going to give me that money, just admit it," he paused and took in the full effect of the Mustang. "But at least you didn't get a truck." He opened the door and set his bags down in the backseat.

Gilbert shifted the car into drive, and they began cruising back to Nappa Valley.

"So did you have fun?" Gilbert asked, as Francis continuously messed with the radio.

"Oh, you know," Francis drawled, ready to tell a fantastic lie. But he was tired. And lying was pointless with his friends. He exhaled. "It was the usual."

"You didn't meet anybody or anything?"

Francis kept scrolling through the channels, unsatisfied with every genre. "I met some. But I don't know," he closed his eyes briefly. "I don't know what I'm doing."

Gilbert frowned and slapped Francis's hand away from the radio. "Okay, first of all – the driver's in charge of the music," he blindly changed it to a metal-rock station. "And second of all, what do you mean you don't know what you're doing?"

"I just…" Francis looked out the window. "I'm just empty. I feel like I don't even know who I am. All I've ever done is follow my parents' orders, I've never had any struggles to overcome, I'm rich, I'm beautiful…"

"You're arrogant," Gilbert added with a smirk.

"I'm just stating the facts," Francis smiled sadly. "But even with all of that, I'm nothing."

"We can't all have character-building struggles like Antonio," Gilbert said with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, Antonio," Francis lamented, thinking about his poor, lonely friend. "Is it better to have known love and lost, or to have never loved at all?"

"What?" Gilbert turned to him confused.

"Never mind. Have you seen him at all this weekend?"

"Nope. I called him and invited him over for a drink, or at least to have dinner with Ludwig and I, but he said he's too busy," Gilbert didn't bother hiding his annoyance.

"Has he left the vineyards once this month?"

Gilbert shook his head and Francis sighed.

"Well, what about you?" Francis asked, desperate for something uplifting to talk about. "Anything new with the mysterious wine critic?"

Gilbert cracked a smile, and his eyes glittered happily. "No, I mean, nothing much anyway. We text a lot, but he's still in Vancouver visiting family. He'll be back in San Fran next week."

"Hm," Francis hummed. "I never would've thought you'd be the one to find love first."

"Hey! I was dating Lizzie years ago and you never said jack shit!" Gilbert snapped.

"Please, that never counted. She was just using you to make Roderich jealous," Francis point out, and examined his fingernails absentmindedly. "But in any case, at least someone fell in love with you. It means it's only a matter of time for Antonio and I."

"I thought Antonio was already a done deal?"

"No, I think not," Francis said and stared at the cloudless sky. "They're both going to make things needlessly complex."

Gilbert nodded slowly, without completely understanding. They were silent again, and the music did little to fill the void.

"Well," Gilbert started after a while. "What about you? I mean, you and Antonio are pretty much tied for being the most romantic. But you definitely take the prize for being the most outgoing. I figured you would've been moving onto your third marriage at this point." Gilbert snickered, and Francis laughed along with him.

Francis's laugh faded as he thought about an answer. "I don't know. I wish I could find someone who understood my soul."

"So...a soul-mate."

"Yes, I suppose so," Francis admitted, a small smile turning his lips up. "I think I'm still waiting."

Gilbert turned to him skeptically and raised an eyebrow. He caught the melancholy, almost hopelessly wistful expression on Francis's face, and he shook his head. "You know, I can't believe I'm the one to say this. But maybe you should stop having so many flings. I don't think that's helping any."

Francis's eyes flashed at him. "Oh. Says the guy who spent two weeks sleeping around San Francisco after Elizaveta announced her engagement."

"Shit, that was a phase! I'm past that now!" Gilbert shouted defensively, pink dusting his fair skin.

"I know, I was only teasing," Francis said, his lips twisting in another smile.

Gilbert pressed his lips together and looked at his friend again. "So…does that mean you're going to listen to me?"

Francis blinked slowly, his eyes staring blankly at the blurring cornfields. "Perhaps."

~/~

That was a lie, of course. The flings may be meaningless, but at least for a night Francis wasn't as lonely. At least it took some of the aching sadness away, and he could pretend he was happy, in love, or anything other than his reality.

Blondes, brunettes, redheads, raven-haired, he adored them all. It hardly mattered what they looked like in the end. He just wanted to delude himself into believing that they understood him; that they didn't just look at his pretty face and shining credit cards, and maybe understood how much his heart hurt. And it was easy to do for a little while. Don't look to deep into their eyes, don't try to carry on a conversation, just kiss and forget.

But Gilbert's right. It was only ever a temporary solution. Flings were like short-lived spells that lasted only for a night, and in the morning all of that romance and splendor faded away, and Francis was once again that lonesome Cinderella without anything worthwhile to hold onto.

That was how he woke up again, and as always he lacked any idea about where he was, and whom he was with. He looked to the side and no one was there. No one was ever there. Francis tended to sleep very late, and most women were too embarrassed to stay that long. Not that it bothered him of course, it wouldn't have been easier with them there. But…

He couldn't help but hope for something wonderful every time.

A phone rang, and Francis's reverie was broken. He sat up in the bed and searched the nightstand, the floor, and eventually found his phone still tucked away in his pants pockets.

He answered it with a sleepy voice. "Hello?"

"Shit, you just woke up, didn't you?" Gilbert's distinct accent rung through the line.

"What? Gilbert? Of course not," Francis yawned and began pulling on his pants. "I was just lying down."

"…Right," Gilbert said, and sarcasm dripped through the phone. "Well, when you're done sneaking out of whatever hotel room you're staying at, remember that we have plans tonight. Matthew's here, and I finally managed to kidnap Toni from the plantation, so it's just you we're waiting for."

"Yes, alright. I haven't forgotten," Francis lied smoothly and continued buttoning his shirt. "I'll see you in a little while."

"You sure you don't need me to pick you up?" Gilbert asked, struggling to be helpful.

"Don't be silly. I'm only a block away," Francis said and got up to inspect his face in the mirror.

"Wait, what?"

"I'm at Erika's apartment."

"Erika as in my bartender Erika?"

"Yes."

There was a small pause.

"Well, fuck. That's going to make things awkward."

~/~

Fortunately, Erika wasn't the sensitive type. Francis assumed she didn't really like him in the first place, or at the very least didn't expect much, and they were able to walk to the bar together on friendly terms.

Inside, Gilbert was leaning over the counter, elbows resting on the shiny countertop, and eyes glued intently on Matthew's face. Matthew sat on the other side on a barstool, and was talking animatedly about something. Francis looked around for Antonio and found him at a table a ways away, chopping tomatoes on a cutting board.

Erika said something like "of course" and joined Gilbert behind the counter. Francis, out of curiosity and some concern, decided to check on his friend.

"Toni, _mon cher_! Long time no see!" Francis announced, easily slipping back into his carefree voice.

Antonio turned around, eyes wide in surprise, but he was quick to smile. "Oh, Francis, there you are. We were waiting for you." He chuckled lightly and resumed cutting tomatoes. There was a bowl set beside him with avocado inside.

"So what are you doing?" Francis asked, and took a seat next to him.

"I'm just making some guacamole. I figured I should try to get rid of some of these," Antonio said, smiling a bit more emptily at the tomatoes.

"Oh, I see," Francis hummed, taking note that these were the tomatoes Antonio had planted for Lovino. His friend was so hopeless.

"Feli's doing very well. I saw him on my way out, but he mentioned you should stop by for dinner sometime. He was asking me about Spanish wine – I guess he was thinking of planting some new grapes – but you know so much more about that stuff than I do," Antonio laughed, his cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Ah, maybe I should try studying these things. Do you have any books I can borrow?"

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Toni, what's wrong? I can't remember the last time you wanted to read."

Antonio blinked in surprise, and red tinged the tips of his ears. But his smile remained and he replied, "Nothing's wrong! I was just thinking maybe I could try learning something. I think I might try to read those books you mentioned. Was were they again?"

Francis was silent as he tried to decipher Antonio's expression. Shining green eyes, shaky, weak smile, and tightly clasped hands. Francis had seen this before. Antonio looked guilty. That could only mean he talked to his parents.

Francis sighed, depressed that his problems seemed so miniscule now. How could he complain about his life when Antonio was basically severed from his family?

"So," Francis began, leaning his chin into his palm and giving Antonio an even stare. "What did they say this time?"

Antonio's blush reddened, and he scratched the back of his neck nervously. He laughed, but the sound hurt Francis's ears. "Well, you know. Some of the usual."

"Did they ask how you were doing?" Francis asked, his heart suddenly swelled with contempt. Not for Toni of course.

"Um," Antonio looked to the side, still chuckling a strangled, false sound. "Not really. I-it was more like asking when I'd come back."

Francis leaned back in the chair, struggling to keep his frustration in check. "I take it it wasn't a pleasant conversation."

Antonio looked down, finally letting the smile fall from his face. "Not really…"

Francis glanced at him, his adrenaline simmering to compassion. "Toni, I'm sorry. But you know they're in the wrong, right?"

Antonio's eyes flicked up, the green shimmering under the dim light of the overhead lamp. His lips turned up weakly, but his gaze was as passionate and sure as ever. "Yeah, I know." His smile broadened bitterly. "It's just kind of sad."

Francis's eyes turned downcast. "Yes, I suppose it is."

It was quiet again.

"But I think," Antonio started, holding a tomato in his hand. "I think it'll be worth it in the end."

Oh, Toni, Francis thought. You're so optimistic. Please don't pin all of your love and hope on one stubborn boy. Your heart will be so difficult to put back together a second time.

But of course, he couldn't say any of that. "You're such a romantic Toni, I'm sure you can win him over."

Antonio looked up, eyes bright and bold, and he laughed fully for the first time that day.

Francis kept his mask and smiled, but on the inside, he was cold with worry.

~/~

"Gilbert."

"Hm, what is it Mattie? Oh, have you run out? Do you need some more?"

"N-no, I'm fine. It's just that…don't you think you've had enough?"

"Enough what?"

"Enough – Francis, can you help me out here?"

Francis looked up from his pretty cocktail and in the direction of Matthew. He acknowledged his distressed, pink face and turned towards Gilbert. It looked he was already well past his tenth drink of the night, and was now tuning his electric guitar.

"What's the problem?" Francis asked, and took another heavy sip.

Matthew's eyes widened in nervous panic. "Gilbert! Is he okay? He seems kind of drunk."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about him. I doubt he's that drunk. He can handle his drinks," Francis waved his hand dismissively and looked around the room. Now where had Antonio gone?

"Ten drinks isn't light! He was taking shots before that!" Matthew protested, and squeaked when Gilbert snuck up behind him.

"Birdie! Do you want to hear me play my guitar?" Gilbert asked and wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist.

"Y-you play the guitar?" Matthew stuttered, blushing from his cheeks to the back of his neck.

"No, he doesn't. That's Erika's. He just likes to play with it after the bar closes," Francis answered simply. "But has anyone seen Toni by the way?" Francis twisted around the barstool and tried to gain a better vantage point of the room. Not that it was that large, but Antonio had to be nearby.

"He was around here somewhere," Gilbert said and continued dragging Matthew away from the bar and towards the stage.

Francis rolled his eyes and stepped down from the stool. "Very helpful," he muttered and began heading towards the stairs. Gilbert closed the bar early today so that he could spend more time with Matthew, and now the only ones still loitering around inside were Erika and Kiku – they had a meeting with their other band members, but it seemed like the rest of them had disappeared – Matthew and Gilbert, and until about an hour ago, Francis and Antonio.

Gilbert and his brother Ludwig lived upstairs, andthey had a guest room where Francis or Antonio would often sleep over. More recently it'd been Francis.

So, Francis first checked there: empty, quiet, dark. He passed by Ludwig's room, where a light seeped from the crack in the door; he must have been studying. Then, as Francis neared Gilbert's room he heard sounds. But they weren't any sounds he was hoping to hear.

Perhaps he was too perceptive of this sort of thing, and that in of itself must say something about him, but it didn't make Francis any happier to see with his own eyes how right he was.

It hadn't gotten far, fortunately, but that didn't make the position any less compromising. Antonio was on the couch, shirtless and flushed, and only pulled his lips away from the body on top of him when Francis threw the door open.

"Antonio, what the hell is going on?" Francis snapped, eyes sharp on the blond crawling away from Antonio. "Abel? What are you doing up here? I thought you left?"

Abel was quick to smile, like he always was and said, "Well, I was going to, but as I was about to leave Antonio pulled me up here."

Francis glanced back at Antonio's lazy green eyes. "He's drunk. It looks like he's very drunk, and he only drinks like this when he's upset. Couldn't you have said no or something?"

"He doesn't seem that drunk to me," Abel said, but just as the words left his mouth, Antonio turned over on the couch and accidentally toppled to the floor. Abel glanced up at Francis, a carefree chuckle escaping his lips. "Oh."

"Oh," Francis repeated mockingly, and made fast, long strides across the room to check on his friend. Antonio rolled onto his back with a few groans. "Toni? Are you okay?"

His green eyes fluttered open and he focused on Francis slowly. "Wh-what's going on?"

Francis sighed and moved some of Antonio's curly locks away from his forehead. "You really need to stop bottling everything up Toni. Not everyone knows you as well as Gilbert and I," he mumbled and helped his friend sit up. "Now how much did you have to drink?"

Antonio's head hovered unsteadily as he tried to think. "I'm not sure…"

"Alright then, how do you feel?" Francis asked, alternating his attention between scanning Antonio worriedly and glaring at Abel standing in the corner.

"I'm," Antonio paused and a happy grin spread across his face. "I'm _maravilloso._"

Francis pressed his lips together in disbelief. Antonio must have drank a lot of alcohol. "That's good. Do you want to take a nap?"

"Hmm," Antonio hummed, taking his time pondering the question. Then his eyes closed, and he said, "_Si._ A nap sounds good."

"Okay," Francis replied, and began hauling Antonio up by the arms. Abel moved into help and together they laid Antonio down on Gilbert's unmade bed, making sure to fix him on his side in case he needed to throw up. "Antonio, I'm going downstairs to talk to Gilbert, but someone will be right up to check on you, alright?"

Antonio nodded his head and hummed again.

Francis exhaled in relief – it seemed like Antonio was at least happy enough to fall asleep. If they were both lucky, Antonio would wake up with no memory of any of this. Though at least Antonio hadn't actually slept with Abel. God knows what Antonio would be like if he remembered that. His conscience wasn't as merciful as Francis's.

On that note, Francis gestured to Abel to follow him out of the room, and in strict silence they exited and closed the door behind them.

Once they were in the hallway however, Francis resumed his verbal assault. "What were you thinking? You know Antonio's an unstable drunk! And couldn't you tell how upset he was before he started drinking! What part of that made you think it was okay?"

Abel shrugged his shoulders. "I'm telling you, he didn't seem that drunk to me. He seemed like he always was. I mean, he was laughing and smiling…he wasn't any different than sober, really."

"_Mon dieu_," Francis covered his eyes with his hand. It seemed like he and Gilbert really were the only two that could decode the minute signals Antonio gave. "You're going to have to promise me to stay away from him from now on. Antonio's not the type for a fling. He'd be heartbroken in the morning," Francis warned.

Abel nodded in understanding. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. I guess it wouldn't have worked out anyway," he said casually, jumping the last step and turning around. His eyes sparkled deviously. "What about you though?"

Francis almost scoffed at the question. "You know my reputation."

"I do," Abel smiled and leaned against the wall. "So what do you say?"

Francis's eyes passed over him easily, sharp with fresh anger, but also dark and desperate for something. Someone. It didn't even matter that he preferred women to men. It's not like that stopped him before.

So he smirked and asked, "My place or yours?"

~/~

But the next morning, Francis awoke as he always did. Cold, alone, a bit confused, somewhat ashamed, but also numbingly empty inside. He always asked himself why he did it, what was he thinking when he agreed to it; and he always made the flimsy promise of never doing it again. But just by telling himself that, Francis was at least able to get himself out of bed and pretend to face the day.

He had to text Gilbert, let him know what happened to him. He should also ask how Antonio's doing, since he left fairly soon after passing the news along to Matthew. Then, finally, he should go back to the vineyard. It's been too long, and he needs to check in.

At the thought of time, Francis glanced around the plain white room for a clock. It was ten. That's fairly early considering. Francis yawned and resumed his routine of getting ready. Abel wasn't anywhere to be seen, so Francis took the liberty of taking a shower. Afterwards he redressed himself in the slacks and white button-down from yesterday, rolled the crumpled sleeves to his elbow and stuffed his dying phone and noticeably lighter wallet into his pockets.

He wandered down the stairs, still yawning and rehearsing his explanations to Gilbert and Matthew, but stopped when he smelled an aroma of food floating around the townhouse. After he reached the bottom floor with newly, deft footsteps, Francis hesitantly peaked into the kitchen for any sign of Abel. And he was there, cooking and whistling as he moved about the kitchen. The fact that Abel set the table for two should've made Francis elated, or at the very least flattered, but in that moment the only thing that registered in his mind was fear.

So he turned on his heel and dashed out the front door as fast as he could. There was a call behind him, but Francis was sure to ignore it, and in a few rushed turns, he was suddenly standing in front of a tall, white building, panting and trying to catch his breath in front of it. Running through a hangover wasn't so easy. But he had to run. It's not as if Francis liked Abel. Not even on friendly acquaintance terms really. He was just another person Francis needed at night, but in the morning, Francis wanted him to be gone, like a dream. That's what he wanted from all of them.

But at the same time, he held out this hope for true love. It was a tragedy in the making and Francis was completely aware of it.

After he finally caught his breath, Francis noticed the clusters of people, polished and ready, chatting and hovering near the building just as he was. So Francis looked further up, very curious and – oh. It was a church. A few wheels turned in his head and he realized it was also a Sunday. Francis checked his shining gold watch: and it was almost eleven o'clock. Wasn't that a common time for mass?

Francis took his time freely watching the families and friends conversing near the steps, and deliberated what to do. He supposed he should be going now. There was just something nostalgic about the scene. It reminded him of his church in France, and the times he went to mass with his family. It seemed so long ago, trapped in his pristine, faraway childhood.

But as people began filing inside the doors he exhaled wistfully. If only going inside would take him back in time.

Of course, Francis knew it wouldn't and with a half-smile he turned around, only to have his attention caught by a glimpse of someone in the corner of his eye. He stopped in an instant and tried to find her. But she was already skipping up the steps into the church, her cropped hair bouncing with her stride.

~/~

Jeanne came because the voices in her head told her to. Because she must, she was compelled. Because at the right time of day the stained glass painted the church in deep rich hues and she felt immersed in the love of God. And it felt like redemption.

At first she would come just for the services and rush out after the crowd dispersed, but at the door she could feel the presence of God leave her. Jeanne knew that He was all around, yet it was only when she crossed the threshold that she believed that He was in her.

And it was only then that the voices stopped.

So Jeanne began to come every day. She lit candles for the friends she lost, and she tried not to lose herself in the flames. The confessions she made to the priest never felt real, so Jeanne would spend hours sitting on the hard wooden pew, confessing to the God she found within her.

And when she felt the colorful light giving her cheek a warm caress, she knew it was the kiss of her God, forgiving and loving her.

~/~

Francis stepped inside the church and felt nothing. He could see the beauty in the stained glass windows and know that every inch of this old church was made by people who loved and cherished God, but he no longer felt, no longer believed. There was a fog over his mind, dulling the brilliant colors and weighing down his heart. Of course, Francis knew that he loved his friends and his vineyards, that he loved to love people and all beautiful things...but what good was his love?

He felt underdressed after his night with Abel. Should he even be in a church? He watched a young girl sitting on her father's lap. Two girls in the choir giggling over a joke. The crowd shuffled forward. Love flowed out of people so freely. When was the last time Francis prayed?

He was about to duck out of the line when the light came through, and a woman came upon him like a vision. Like a sunbeam through the storming clouds. Like an epiphany, like a warm kiss in the rain, like a wave crashing over him and washing him clean.

Like redemption.

A woman lit aflame with golden light. Her face was burned on one side, but her eyes showed a strength that was pure and untouchable. No scars could triumph over her, no force could keep the keen grey eyes from finding the truth in Francis. He felt laid bare under her gaze, raw and undone. But he saw her lips, so soft, almost smiling, and something in Francis _shifted._

She was not pretty, she was _beautiful._ She was hard to look at, because to look at her was to see something honest and human. Francis stared at the light breaking her face up into shapes, making her glow with hair like fire and eyes like—_merde!_ She was staring right at him!

At an uncharacteristic loss for what else to do, Francis ignored the voice inside him shouting to _Get out you imbécile get out get out GET OUT!_ and slid into the empty space next to her. His heart pounded from an even more uncharacteristic nervousness, but when he found the strength to glance at the woman again, he met her eyes.

Grey. An ocean. A storm amid the fire on her face. Truth. Despair. A few lines maybe. Scars, almost like flecks of paint, softened under the light of the stained glass.

Was it just moments before that Francis felt nothing? Because now he felt too much. He was powerless in the storm, the wind was rubbing him raw. How could his heart have forgotten this? How had he survived without this ecstatic pain?

He smiled. She smiled in return. Thank God he took a shower. (Maybe part of him still believed). Should he speak? Has it been a lifetime already, or only a few seconds?

"I've never seen you here before," beneath the hush of her voice Francis heard an accent.

"I am not always a man of God, _mademoiselle_," Francis replied, waited a beat, "But I can appreciate His handiwork when I see such beauty."

She smiled fully at that, then turned to look up at the altar, where the priests were still setting up. But Francis had caught the playful spark in her eyes.

He brushed his hand lightly against the sleeve of her jacket to get her attention. She jumped, and turned towards him with a soft blush. The light was fading from her face, a five-minute miracle. He leaned forward, excitement and nervousness and joy churning inside him, and even more he felt a current of warmth running just under his skin, burning his fingertips from where they still lingered right above her wrist.

"_Mademoiselle_, I never caught your name,"

The priest cleared his throat. She looked into his eyes.

"Jeanne."

Jeanne glanced back at the podium – the priest had started to speak in a gravelly voice. Francis didn't even notice.

They were called to stand. In the short bustle, Francis found her eyes again.

"Francis."

He looked up at the stained glass. The crowd began to mutter their prayers. He smiled.

~/~

He wanted to ask more, he wanted to ask everything, but within the confines of the church, and the steely eyes of the priest, Francis felt unsure, and decided to wait. He glanced at her often. Watching the way her head tilted, how her lips set, and he wondered what it all meant. What was Jeanne thinking? Who was Jeanne? Jeanne…

It was like a sign. It was a sign, wasn't it? The name, the golden light – like an angel sent from heaven. God was trying to tell him something, God was –

"Francis, what are you doing?"

He turned towards the low whisper.

Jeanne was staring at him, eyes curious, amused, but her eyebrows taught. Why did she seem so low when just a second ago…oh.

In a flash, Francis dropped back to the bench, the eyes of the crowds following with his motion. He looked back to Jeanne with a ready smile, but nervous to feel an unfamiliar heat creep along his skin. What was this? A blush? Who was he? An Italian?

"Francis?" Jeanne repeated, and this time he was quick to respond.

"I'm sorry _mon chère,_ I must have," he trailed off in search of an answer. His eyes grazed over the windows, the altar, the priest. "I was getting caught up in the moment I suppose. Masses can be so invigorating!"

She blinked once, and her lips twitched up, but she didn't say anything and simply faced forward once again.

Meanwhile, Francis returned to turmoil. How can an answer so silent be so much more nerve-wracking? He hadn't realized he stood up whilst he was so impassioned. He was just thinking about Jeanne and destiny, and –

"Francis!"

Oh, _merde._

~/~

The first time he took her to the vineyards, it was a perfect day. Jeanne asked Francis to show her his favorite places, the hidden places. So they went walking in a companionable, the sun setting beside them and shining through the leaves. Francis stared again at a Jeanne painted in gold, like a gilded statue, and his heart swelled. By the time they made it to the top of the hill, the soft grey light of dusk made the vineyard seem so peaceful. He liked to come here just because –

"It reminds me of home," Jeanne turned to him smiling, a little teary. "My home in France. I mean, I haven't been there in so long," again, she looked out at the endless, gently rolling hills, "but there's something of home in this place."

~/~

"Francis, you're falling behind!" Jeanne laughed from where she trotted ahead on Napoleon.

"That's not fair Jeanne, Marie Antoinette doesn't like to go riding on the trails! She has very sensitive hooves!"

"I can't hear you from back there," she sing-songed and threw a reckless smile over her shoulder.

"Be careful! There's a—,"

Jeanne deftly steered Napoleon around the newly fallen log.

"Oh, that was close!" she gave the horse a pat on the neck, and they both sped along the trail.

A few moments later, Francis led Marie to the log, but she eyed the unfamiliar part of the trail warily, and slowly made her way around it. She was a beautiful horse, but so easily spooked.

Francis looked down at his horse and asked, "Would you please speed up? I wanted to impress Jeanne with the sight of my graceful figure on a horse, but she can't even see me from back here!"

Marie Antoinette just gave a huff in reply. Francis sighed and nudged her with his heels, clicking with his mouth until she started to trot again. They made their way around the bend and gradually caught up to Jeanne and Napoleon. They had stopped at a fork in the trails, and Jeanne was trying to keep Napoleon from eating the leaves off of a nearby bush.

Francis watched her gentle smile, and the way the light filtered through the tall trees, leafy and alive in the summer, and danced across her face, her back. But more than that, it was like she was lit up from the inside; just like when he first met her in that church, and the golden light from the windows was nothing compared to the bright, resilient strength of her eyes. Her beautiful grey eyes…

…which widened in surprise when she saw Francis and Marie trot briskly past her.

"_Honhonhon!_ Just like the hare, you have become overconfident Jeanne! Marie and I will win, like a beautiful, graceful tortoise!"

Francis chanced to look behind him, and laughed again at the stunned expression on Jeanne's face. Then he saw her urge Napoleon into a trot, and he felt a thrill shoot through his heart.

There was a little bit of fear, but mostly, it was a delirious combination of joy and affection, and childish excitement.

"Francis, you're the most ridiculous and most wonderful man I have ever met!" Jeanne shouted, she sounded half-angry, and close.

Okay, perhaps a fair amount of fear.

He patted Marie's snow-white neck. He laughed, and raced ahead.

~/~

"Antonio."

He didn't move.

"Antonio!"

He felt someone poke his side, and reluctantly, his eyes fluttered open. The light burned and he could only catch glimpses of the lemon tree and someone's face looking over him. Someone with dark hair and dark eyes…

His heartbeat picked up and in a second, Antonio sat up to get a better look. But, it wasn't him.

Feliciano was kneeling next to him, eyes glittering with confusion, and it took Antonio too long to slap a smile on his face.

"Feli," he said after a while, a weak laugh slipping through his lips. "What are you doing here?"

Feliciano's eyebrows scrunched together and he tilted his head. "Toni, why are you crying?"

"What?"

"You're crying," Feliciano pointed, and Antonio followed the gesture to his cheeks.

"Oh," he breathed as he touched the dampness. He didn't even know he was crying. "I must have had a nightmare." That wasn't a lie. He was dreaming about his family again. But it was never very different from reality, so he could never actually wake up from it.

Feliciano pressed his lips together in worry, but didn't say anything.

Antonio wiped his cheeks with his arms and started chuckling again. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I haven't been sleeping well lately," he said and took a deep breath. "But um, did you need anything?"

"No, not really," Feliciano replied and settled more comfortably in the grass. After a moment, he continued, "I just finished talking to Lovi."

Antonio's breath caught, but he felt his face brighten. "Really? How's he doing?"

"Good, he's in Verona now. He's fighting with our grandpa, but that's nothing unusual," Feliciano giggled.

A breeze swept through Antonio's hair and he smiled. "He doesn't take orders very well, does he?"

"Not really," Feliciano admitted. "I think he's much happier here. He can do what he wants."

"Yeah," was all Antonio said and he picked a flower. He turned it in his hand as he tried to count how many days were left.

"He asked about you," Feliciano added, happiness bubbling in his voice.

Antonio stared. Lovino asked about him? That'd never happened before. "He did?"

Feliciano nodded, his smile growing. "He asked how you're doing."

"Oh," Antonio mumbled, his cheeks growing warm. "How'd he ask?"

Feliciano laughed. "Well, he asked how the Spanish bastard was doing, but that's just how Lovi talks."

Antonio smiled fondly. He didn't even mind; it almost made him miss Lovino even more. "Yeah, I know."

It was silent again, and Antonio continued twirling the flower as the wind cooled the heat from his skin.

"I told him that you seemed a bit lonely," Feliciano finished tentatively, checking Antonio's expression as he said it.

Antonio's smile stayed. "And what did he say?"

"He said that's stupid."

Antonio laughed breathily and stared out at the vineyards. "Lovi's always honest, isn't he?"

Feliciano's lips twisted into a secret smile. "Not really."

Antonio didn't reply, but he couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face.

"Actually, I think you're both pretty big liars," Feliciano said suspiciously.

Antonio's sparkling green eyes looked to the side and he kept his smile.

They didn't say anything more on the subject and continued sitting in each other's company in comfortable silence.

~/~

She sat with one knee drawn up to her chin. One hand held a glass of Sauternes, and Jeanne stared straight into Francis's eyes as she spoke.

"I thought it would be a simple mission," her gaze was maybe a little distant, but Francis let her tell her story. "I… some part of me knew. Almost like, a warning whispered in my head."

He grabbed her hand, rubbed soothing circles on her palm.

"I just knew I had to save my company. I was their superior, I wasn't really supposed to put myself in that kind of danger. But at that point, I didn't know why I was fighting anymore. I just knew that they were good people, and their lives… I couldn't stand to lose anyone else…"

Francis gently kissed her wrist, pulled her close. He let her settle against his chest, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his shirt as she took a sip of wine and he gendly carded his fingers through her hair.

"So I left the army. Honorable discharge. Burned, alone, and no cause to fight for," she sighed, "I got tired of ignoring the voices in my head. They were trying to steer me right before, weren't they? I listened. I went to the church, and I felt… full of love. I had found God, simple as flipping a switch. So I thought, is this my new cause?"

"I thought I was going to become a nun. And then I didn't know. And then I met you," she said, pressing her soft lips against where her head rested on his chest.

"And I saved you from a life of horrible wine."

Jeanne gave a little huff of laughter. "You know, _mon petit chou_, the day you sat next to me in the church like a lost puppy was the day after I gave up on becoming a nun. You just had very good timing."

Francis thought of the weeks before he met Jeanne. Full of confusion and lust, incredibly messy, but throughout it all, just neverendingly empty. He pulled her close against him, she sighed.

"No, it was you _mon chère__,_ you changed everything for me. Oh my Jeanne, so brave…"

~/~

Days passed and the sun grew hotter. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept Antonio going. He didn't know why, but for the longest time he felt as though he was becoming increasingly lonely. Sure, he, Berwald and Kiku were fairly isolated the days they worked, but that never bothered him before. He enjoyed it, he relished in it. A few months ago all he wanted was to wrestle his hands in the vines and bathe his skin in sunlight. But now…

Antonio wondered what Lovino was doing. He wondered whether he was happy. He wondered where he was, what he was eating, if he had found another lover. They were aching, maddening questions, but Antonio couldn't help but think of them. He wanted Lovino back so much. Even those fleeting encounters were enough. He wanted time to understand those molten gold eyes; he wanted to strip away the lies, the fury, the confusion and the fear.

All he needed was time. And when the two of them were together, Antonio felt as though they had all the time in the world.

~/~

"Lovi! _Ciao_! How are you?" Feliciano asked excitedly, checking the time on his watch and doing quick mental math to calculate the time in Verona. "It's late there isn't it?"

"Not really," Lovino answered gruffly, annoyance easily seeping through his voice. "I just got pissed at grandpa again and needed to get out."

Feliciano listened to the heavier breaths and guessed, "Are you out for a walk?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, do you want to talk about something happy?"

"Sure, whatever," Lovino replied. Feliciano could imagine him rolling his eyes.

"Let's see, well it's been really sunny here –"

"Surprise, surprise," Lovino interrupted dryly.

"The vines are doing well. I've been talking to Francis about planting some new grapes."

Lovino sighed in silent disapproval.

"Oh, Francis has a girlfriend now!" Feliciano exclaimed, suddenly remembering.

"Is that supposed to make me excited?"

"They're so cute, I can't wait for you to meet her."

"She must be bored as hell, sticking around with that weirdo."

"And you remember Matthew? The wine critic from San Francisco?"

"No."

"Aw, well that's okay. He's blond and very quiet. But anyway, he and Gilbert are going out now!"

"_Gilbert's gay_?"

Feliciano didn't miss the slight note of horror in Lovi's voice. "Well, at the very least he likes Mattie! They're so cute together too."

Lovino's breaths echoed into the phone and Feliciano caught the crunch of footsteps. "Seems like everyone's pairing up now. Don't tell me you've found someone too."

Feliciano giggled easily. "No, not yet!~"

"What the hell is that supposed to mea –"

"But someone else has!"

The breaths and footsteps came to a halt. "Oh."

Feliciano tried to picture his brother's face. "Don't you want to know who? It's somebody close to us!"

"I," Lovino stopped, his voice sounded rough. "S-sure."

Feliciano thought about teasing him more, but decided not to. "Berwald just asked Tino out!"

A subtle exhale floated through the phone. "Oh. I see."

"Isn't that great?" Feliciano pushed eagerly, though he knew already what direction Lovino's mind had travelled too.

"Yeah," was the only response.

Feliciano looked out the kitchen window as a silence hung between them. Antonio was lying under the lemon tree again. He thought of those mysterious tears from the other day. What would Lovino make of that?

"Something strange happened the other day," Feliciano started hesitantly, his voice quieter than before.

"Hm," Lovino responded in acknowledgment.

"I saw Antonio taking a siesta like usual, and I wanted to talk to him. But when I went over there I saw he was crying."

"What? Crying?" Lovino snapped. He sounded angry.

"Yeah, he said he had a nightmare, but…"

"Well, shit. It probably was a nightmare. What could the idiot possibly be sad about?"

"That's what he said, but I don't know. Antonio's pretty secretive when you think about it. He doesn't talk much about himself."

Lovino only breathed as he thought. "I can't imagine him crying," he admitted softly.

"It was really strange," Feliciano added, remembering the scene. "But he seems alright most of the time. Maybe he had a bad day," he offered, trying to cheer his brother's spirits. He hadn't meant to depress him so much.

"Yeah," Lovino muttered, and his footsteps picked up again. It sounded like pebbles.

Feliciano looked through the pasta in the kitchen cupboard as he waited for Lovino to talk again.

"I'm coming back next Wednesday."

Feliciano almost dropped the box of penne. "What? Lovino? Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, _mio dio_ that's so amazing! Why didn't you tell me sooner? I can't wait! Maybe Tino and I should throw you a party! Oh, well, I guess it wouldn't be a surprise. But still! I need to go tell everybody and –"

"Feliciano," Lovino interrupted harshly, waiting another moment for Feliciano to be completely quiet. "Please…don't tell everyone."

It took a second, but Feliciano caught the subtext. "Ah, I see."

"What? No, you don't. There's nothing to get. Just," Lovino paused. "Just don't tell everyone. I-I don't want people to know."

"Hmm," Feliciano hummed, a smug smile growing on his lips. "I see. Well can I at least tell Tino, so he can help me get your room ready?"

"Sure," Lovino replied, and Feliciano could only imagine how red his blush was.

No one said anything, and Feliciano walked back over to the window. Antonio's body was still peaceful in the grass, and the sun hung just a bit lower in the sky.

"Everyone will be excited to see you again."

"I doubt it," Lovino scoffed.

Feliciano laughed, short and sweet. "No really. I think everyone will."

There was a cough. Feliciano knew it was a mix of surprise and denial.

Then in a hushed whisper came the final reply, "Whatever."

~/~

Francis woke up, a little disoriented in the darkness but Jeanne still curled up against him. At first, he felt himself smiling, but soon after he realized something was wrong. Jeanne was twitching, mumbling words in French and English.

He gently pushed back her hair, which was plastered to her forehead with sweat, whispering, "Jeanne. Jeanne, _mon chère__,_ you're having a nightmare!"

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, like when she told him about her army days. Gradually, she looked at Francis, who brought her hand to his cheek.

"Francis? I… I thought I was back there. I could feel the flames still. And I called out to God, but he wasn't answering me. It… I was burning and I was alone," she sounded so confused and scared still, so unlike his usual bright, courageous Jeanne. Francis held her close against him, pressing kisses all along her face, against her closed eyes and the burns that ran along the right side of her cheek.

"You're not alone with me, _mon amour_," Francis said. Jeanne just smiled, but her eyes were watery and she still didn't seem at ease.

"I know there are things I can never fix. Or forget," she touched her scars. "But I always thought it would be… meaningful, if I lived my life with purpose. I tried to help people by fighting, but I only saw violence without purpose. I was a part of that And yet, when God spoke to me, he still loved me. If I lost that, what would it mean for me?" she stared questioningly at Francis.

"Jeanne, before I first met you, I was feeling so lost. I used to be full of love; loving people, in all their flawed beauty, came so naturally to me. And then I didn't feel that anymore, I came here to run my vineyard and create delicious, perfect wines that would bring people together. But I got lost along the way… it all felt empty. Then I went into a church, when I hadn't prayed in years, and I saw these people all around me showing their love for each other in all sorts of ways. I don't know about God, not really, but I could see the care and affection people felt for each other flowing through them so easily," Francis sighed.

"Francis, I don't—,"

"And then I saw you. And I felt so full of emotion, full to bursting in a way I had never felt before. The way the light was shining through the windows, it was like you were golden. Or aflame," Jeanne looked pained, but there was happiness in there, too. "And your eyes, they're so sure. You can be so kind and gentle, but looking at your eyes I could only see a purity of purpose. There is justice in your eyes, Jeanne. And I knew from the moment I met you that I was rescued. You helped me, Jeanne. And maybe God gave me all of this love, so that I could share it with you. You know? God's love can't ever leave you, no matter whether he is speaking to you. Wherever you bring your justice, you create more love…" Francis trailed off, a little embarrassed of his long speech.

But Jeanne smiled at him, fully this time. She cradled his face in her hands, and leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss.

"_Je t'aime_ Francis. Thank you."

And they slept.

~/~

Antonio didn't sleep much anymore. Guilt and loneliness gnawed away at his heart more than ever, and he couldn't shut his eyes for a moment without seeing his family's faces, without hearing their voices, their pleas, their yells. It was engraved in his memory.

It'd been a few years since he left, but much less since he had pretended to moved past the situation. He was finally so happy. He got a job at a vineyard, at one of the most beautiful and peaceful ones too. He lived near his best friends, he had a house, food. He met Lovino…

Everything was wonderful. Everything felt bright and shining, like he only lived in daylight and the night never came.

But that was such a silly thing to think. It's not as if he could've kept his past buried forever, it's not as if his parents would have let it all go. They weren't that sort of people. And it hurt to ignore them. It stung to disobey them. It burned to disappoint them, over and over again. But there was nothing he could do.

He started waking up earlier and earlier, even before the sun peaked over the horizon. He'd wake up this early, short of breath and panting, some tear stains fresh on his cheeks, with the only desire to run outside. He had to get out. It wasn't exactly like panic, it was just guilt. Overwhelming, consuming guilt. And it was beginning to suffocate him.

But when he was outside, at least he was distracted.

This morning he ran out rather frantically, bothering to slip on shoes and a short-sleeve shirt, but without ever taking a glance in the mirror. He stepped foot on the rugged terrain, and a shaky breath escaped his lips. He closed his eyes and reminded himself of where he was, who he was with, and chanted the encouraging words Gilbert and Francis said to him repeatedly, like a mantra.

Everything was okay. It wasn't his fault, Antonio told himself. It wasn't. _It wasn't._

Finally, his chest eased, and breathing came easier. He blinked at the ground and pushed his palms off of his knees. He stood up straight and stared at the horizon. Sunlight was just barely grazing the tips of the mountains, and the dewy leaves of the vines shined happily at the dawn of a new day.

Somehow he started walking. Antonio focused on his breathing and the monotonous, daily sounds – the birds, the crickets, the stir of the wind. The outdoors was soothing. He didn't feel trapped. There were no rules or walls to keep him in, it was as free as life could be, and with every gasp of fresh, fertile air, Antonio felt his nerves unwind.

Then there was a sound he wasn't expecting. A sharp intake, a loud shuffle of dirt. Antonio twisted around to see.

_Oh._

"Lovino?" Antonio asked, unsure that once again, he was mistaking Feliciano. So he stepped closer to the vines to make sure, peering through the leafy wall, and…yes. Finally, it was him.

His skin was tanner, his hair was lighter, like the sun wouldn't leave him alone. But his eyes, his golden, glittering eyes were just the same. And the light was hitting him in such a way that there was no darkness to him, everything was bright, in red and oranges, and blended together like a mirror to the sunrise.

And it was strange how quickly everything Antonio thought he had forgotten returned. His heart picked up the staccato rhythm, his skin buzzed with excitement, and for the first time in weeks, his lips spread in a genuine smile. Courage and life surged through his veins, and everything that had haunted and clouded his vision faded away with Lovino's return.

Lovino was still staring back, eyes impossibly wide, like he hadn't expected to come across Antonio this early, and hands clenched at his sides like he was debating running. But he didn't take a step forwards or backwards, and stayed safe behind the flimsy gate of vines.

After some rapid blinking, and a laugh that couldn't be bottled up, Antonio said, "Lovino, I didn't know you were back! No one said anything!"

Lovino's cheeks warmed, and his eyes turned away. Antonio wish they didn't. "I got back at around one this morning, but I was having trouble sleeping again," he muttered, flashing his eyes back to give Antonio a strange look. "I didn't think you'd be out this early."

Now Antonio blushed, more in shame than embarrassment. For a moment his heart weighed at the reoccurring memory of his parents, but he remembered who he was with and kept his wide smile. It wasn't as hard now. "_Si_, well I ended up falling asleep right after dinner, so I couldn't stay in bed for too much longer." He laughed again, filling out his lie. "But this is such a surprise! I never expected we'd meet like our first time in the vineyards."

Lovino shuffled some dirt with his foot and tried to hide his face. "It's whatever."

Antonio kept smiling and tried to commit every part of Lovino to memory.

Lovino felt eyes on him and looked up in a fit of fury. "What is it, bastard?"

"Oh, nothing," Antonio chuckled, and made the deft move under the vines and wire to join Lovino in the other aisle. He pretended not to hear how Lovino's breath caught, and instead focused on Lovino's eyes again. "I was just thinking how much you've changed."

Lovino's forehead puckered. "Changed? What do you mean I've changed?"

"Well, you've gotten a tan."

"I'm Italian," Lovino answered proudly, standing a bit straighter.

Antonio grinned wider. He wanted to laugh again. "You got highlights in your hair."

Lovino's hands flew to his head, patting the red-brown locks. "I didn't get highlights. That's just what happens when hair's out in the sun, idiota."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess you're right," Antonio apologized with an easy smile.

Lovino scowled, and his eyes followed Antonio with a mysterious glare. He opened and closed his mouth, then finally, he asked, "So what about you?"

"Hm?" Antonio snapped out of his reverie and focused on Lovino's words again. "What do you mean?"

Lovino pursed his lips and his cheeks reddened a bit darker. "You seem…different. Like, tired or something."

Antonio stopped, and in a second gathered himself. And it was easy knowing Lovino cared, at least a little bit. "Well, Lovi," he started, smiling wide with a playful smile. "That's because I've been waking up at dawn every morning, just waiting to run into you in the vineyards again. But apparently it's been worth it," he winked, and savored the brief flicker of happiness in Lovino's eyes.

Of course, it couldn't last, and Lovino was fast to scoff and turn his head away. "You damn liar. You haven't changed at all." Lovino started walking away, and said, "Whatever, I'm going back to bed."

Antonio stood still and called after him, "Will I see you later, Lovi?"

Lovino's body twisted around and he stared back. "What? Are you not going to follow me?"

Antonio grinned, his eyes shining. "I have work to do. Remember?"

Lovino's body jerked upright and he stamped his foot. "God damn it, I know that. It's just that – usually you – oh fuck it, I don't care. I'll see you when I see you, bastard." He turned back around and continued his march back towards the house.

Antonio laughed as his only reply. He couldn't help but laugh. His heart felt too full, his head too light, and his skin too warm. He didn't want to think about his parents anymore. He didn't want to think about them or his home in Spain, or all of his guilt.

He wanted to think of grapes and wine, gardening and horses. He wanted to love and live and have fun.

After three months of darkness, Lovino finally brought back the sun, and now it was summer.

* * *

~/~

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading, and for your patience in writing this chapter. My beta doesn't have a fan fiction account - she has an Archive account but she rarely uses it - so if you have any input for her, I'd be happy to pass it on :) I'll see you very soon! And next time it'll be summer with sweet, sweet Spamano._

_Please review! :) _


	6. Chapter Six: Freisa

_Gosh, thank you so, so much for your patience again. I'm so sorry for the wait (**again**). College. **AGAIN**. I was pretty overwhelmed last week, and for some reason I'm always thrown about how to start the next chapter xD Once I hit 2k I'm good, but gosh, starting is hard, right? I also couldn't decide which drama to throw at you guys next, haha. I had to rework the outline. But as always, your wonderful reviews encouraged/reminded me to keep going. _

_A special thank you to The Goliath Beetle for helping me find another wine-love related poem. *gives big hug* Thank you so, so much!_

_And just a quick warning about the Spanish. I don't speak it. This is all by the grace of Google Translate, but though try it may, it is not without flaw. Sorry about that._

___Anyway, by some miracle I managed to finish this chapter, and I hope you guys like it :) It's summer! Weeeee~_

* * *

_The Lovers_

_will drink wine night and day._

_They will drink until they can _

_tear away the veils of intellect and_

_melt away the layers of shame and modesty._

_When in Love, _

_body, mind, heart and soul don't even exist._

_Become this, _

_fall in Love, _

_and you will not be separated again._

– _Rumi_

* * *

_Summer_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_Freisa – is an Italian red wine grape variety, often a red, somewhat sweet, and sparkling with aromas of strawberry, raspberry and violet._

~/~

"He's different."

Feliciano looked up from his journal towards his brother's suspicious stance near the window.

He set his pen down in the midst of drawing Tino's newest vase of flowers, and asked, "What do you mean?"

Lovino's didn't stray from the bright glass. "Antonio," he clarified, and his lips pressed together in distinct annoyance. Feliciano had seen that expression before. "He seems different. Tired. Quiet. Something." Lovino turned to Feli, and at once Feliciano dropped his attention back to his journal.

"Ve~ I don't know," Feliciano deviated swiftly, and continued his sketch.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I…don't know?" Feliciano offered weakly, trying his best to seem helpless.

It worked, and Lovino turned his gaze back to the window, a subtle "tsk" under his breath.

Feli watched his brother continue his secret spying of Antonio – which of course, was always vehemently denied if pointed out – and wondered. Feliciano knew something was up with Antonio, he'd been suspecting it for a while now. But he thought perhaps it had something to do with lovesickness; is it possible it could be something else entirely?

"He's definitely different," Lovino said again, and Feliciano flicked his gaze to him. "I can just tell," he added, and it didn't escape Feliciano's notice how his voice was tinged with worry.

Feliciano let his glee settle in his stomach before he trusted himself to speak. "Maybe you should talk to him," he suggested slyly.

A warm blush crept over Lovino's tan, and he gripped his forearms in a nervous gesture. "I don't like talking to him."

Well that won't do.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Feliciano asked, his tone innocent.

Lovino turned to him wide-eyed all the same, and Feliciano took that as an opportunity to continue.

"We became really good friends while you were away, I'm sure he'd tell me what's wrong if I asked him. Maybe I could take him out and we could talk about it over dinner. What do you think?"

Lovino kept staring, a million words scrolling across his eyes. In a moment of boldness he started, "I – well…th-that's just. I mean, I…" Lovino's face was red now and he focused on the tiles of the kitchen floor. "I…don't think he'd like that."

"Really?" Feliciano asked, hiding his smile.

"Yeah," Lovino shifted his weight and crossed his arms. "I'm probably wrong anyway. The bastard's probably just tired from singing to the stupid grapes for too long." Lovino seemed satisfied with his lie and started stalking out of the kitchen.

He brushed past the table, and Feliciano watched him. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Out," Lovino replied, and the front door slammed behind him.

~/~

Antonio was lounging at the picnic table when he saw Lovino's black motorcycle roll out of the garage. That was the first time he'd seen him in two days, and Lovino was leaving? That's not fair. Where could he possibly be going?

"Toni," Berwald called, and Antonio twisted around to see him. "I'm going to the h'rdware store f'r some supplies. Do you n'd anything?"

Antonio blinked. Oh, well, he was going to bike to town, but if he could get a ride. That would make things easier.

~/~

It was just the same as Lovino had remembered it. Tulip Haven was still cute, still dainty and feminine – which makes it a wonder someone as tough and intimidating as Tim could work there too.

Lovino wondered whether he would feel differently about Emma now. When he was travelling, he met all sorts of nice, beautiful women; he even went out with a few. But after dinner and wine, and a few kisses, it was all the same. Boring. Lovino hoped that perhaps he just hadn't managed to find the right one yet. He didn't consider himself a romantic, but that's the only possible reason. B-because, he's not…_gay_, right? That's just…That would be…wrong? Disgusting? Normally, those words would apply, but knowing that Antonio is, well, bi or whatever – Lovino can't think of him as disgusting. Antonio's not any of those things. He's…

Lovino stopped himself before he finished that thought with something incriminating. Now he was blushing when the bastard wasn't even here, damn it! And he was hoping that all of this would disappear after being away for three months. Instead, it's like everything was magnified ten times. Were Antonio's eyes really that green the last time he saw him? Was his accent really that Spanish?

God damn it.

He cooled his cheeks with the backs of his palms and sighed. There's no way he could be gay. All Lovino ever wanted to be was normal; to be amazing, but normal at the same time. Being gay would be difficult, and Lovino's already had a hard-ass time getting this far being his screw-up, "straight," angry self.

After a few minutes of mental ranting, Lovino just thought _Fuck it_, and opened the door. The bell chimed and he looked around the humid, room. Yep. Green leaves, colorful flowers, nothing much has changed. Eventually, Lovino's eyes found their way to the counter and he spotted Emma's bright, happy figure busying with papers near the register.

"Hold on, just a moment!" She yelled, and shoveled papers into folders. "Alright, let me just put these away and I'll be right with you!" She disappeared for a second as she stuffed the folders into cabinets, and in the next she was standing upright, smiling, perfect, pretty, and chipper, staring right at Lovino with pale, green eyes. When she recognized it was Lovino, her expression changed, and suddenly her smile was broader and less cat-like, and she skipped fast to pull him into a hug. "Oh, Lovino! I didn't know you were back! You should've told me! You should've told me you were visiting today too, or else I might've dressed up!" She pulled away to examine Lovino's face with sharp eyes. "Wow, you're so tan! And your hair is kind of red too! That's so cute!"

Lovino wanted to snap at the word cute, but instead he smiled. "_Grazie_. I was in the sun a lot while I was away.

"Obviously," she giggled, and looked around the room. "Well, there's nothing much to do here. But if you have time, would you like to go out to dinner? You could tell me all about your trip!"

Oh, that was quick. "Well, I don't know. I really just stopped to say hi. And isn't it," he checked his gold-band watch. "It's five o' clock. Isn't that kind of early?"

"Well, we can go for a walk or something," she waved her hand dismissively and flashed him a sly smile. "I just need to get out of here for a little bit. I've been working all day."

Lovino blushed, though he didn't know why. There was something about Emma's smile that seemed…insinuating in a way? Whatever it was, it threw him off guard.

Emma seemed pleased with Lovino's reaction and took the initiative to hook her arm through his and lead him towards the door. "I'm just going to take that as a yes."

"But, um, what about the shop? Is there anyone looking after it?" Lovino mumbled, feeling even more nervous about the close proximity. That's strange, it never bothered him so much before. Maybe that was a good thing?

"Oh, don't worry about that! Tim's in the back. He'll take care of it. And his wife is around too, so there's even more help," she said easily and guided him along the sidewalk in the direction of downtown. "Honestly, that's part of the reason I feel so suffocated in there. All they do is try to set me up, and blah, blah, blah." She rolled her eyes. "Why is it that married people feel the need to match every single person out there?"

Lovino's chest eased at a familiar topic. "I don't know. My grandpa's always going on about how Feli and I should be dating or whatever. And it's not just him, it's his friends too. I feel like that's just an Italian thing, damn it," Lovino grumbled, and Emma laughed.

Lovino laughed despite himself, and his cheeks warmed. That was it. The feeling he got when he was around Emma. It was pleasant: he liked her. She was even surprising, and he liked that too. But…

He knew.

In the end, three months didn't change anything at all.

And if he couldn't be attracted to any Italian girl, any American girl, or Emma, what then?

~/~

The walk was fairly short. Emma took Lovino down the streets and window-shopped for a while. It was a fun activity to do with someone as fashionable as Lovino, and it seemed as though he had an opinion on every dress, every coat, every watch and earring that they passed. That was one of the very many things Emma loved about Lovino: she liked how much he cared. He took an interest in everything, if at least to hate it, and there was usually some reason as to why. But talking to Lovino was so fascinating, so lively; he was never boring.

So many times when she dated men, they'd be too careful to talk to her, too polite or too fearful, or just too reserved to say what they were really thinking. And it always bothered her. Lovino rarely did so. If they talked about politics or religion or fashion or cooking, he had an opinion on everything, and she loved it when he would veer off on impassioned tangents that'd catch the ears of strangers. Emma even loved his foul language.

But, even Lovino wasn't completely honest. There were times he closed off too. And it always occurred somewhere near the mention of love.

Emma didn't know if she loved Lovino. She had strong feelings for him, she cared for him, and she even felt protective over him. But she didn't know, and perhaps she didn't know because she knew there was some part of Lovino he was keeping hidden from her. And it bothered her, because of all things, Emma despised secrets.

For dinner, Emma took Lovino to another of her favorite bistros on Main Street. It was French-inspired cuisine with a modern flair, but Lovino insisted he wasn't very hungry and didn't care where they ate, so she felt free to dine there. And true to his word, Lovino spent most of the evening nursing his Sauvignon Blanc, and paying little attention to his quiche Lorraine.

Like the last time they dined together, Lovino faded in and out of the conversation, obviously haunted by something on his mind, but any time Emma tried to ask if something was wrong, Lovino would shake her off, changing the subject abruptly to some rant about the _shitty wine_ or the _dumb-ass quiche_.

But Emma wasn't going to give up that easily.

"So Lovino," she started, awakening Lovino from his trance. "Is anything new going on at the vineyards? Anything since you've been away?"

His eyes wandered up in thought and Emma briefly detected the trace of annoyance? Worry? But before she could decide he took a sip of wine and replied. "Not really. Berwald's still intimidating as shit. Kiku's still disappearing. But apparently Tino and Berwald are dating. That's new."

"Oh, I think I saw them downtown the other day!" She remembered, and recalled how nervous Tino looked. Berwald was also frequenting the nursery now, so it all made sense. "Funny, I guess I didn't really expect it from Berwald."

Lovino suddenly tensed, looking at her with more suspicion. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I guess I just assumed he was more of a loner," Emma laughed, and her mind wandered elsewhere. "Ah, but that actually reminds me! Did you ever get the chance to talk to Antonio about –"

"Fucking hell!" Lovino yelled, and in the same moment, his glass of wine fell, shattering to tiny, glinting pieces on the floor. His face was red, and his eyes a bit wide, but he immediately turned to Emma with a prepared rant. "Damn it, I'm sorry. Let me call the waiter over. The fucking glass must have just slipped through my fingers.

Emma watched as Lovino fumbled in his seat, waving down a waiter and continuing to spew a mix of apologies and profanity. His whole aura felt extremely agitated, and Emma couldn't help but feel it was staged somehow. She felt like he was distracting her again. She was nearing forbidden territory.

"Lovino," Emma said, calling him back with a touch to his hand. He jumped and looked away from the waiter, who was finishing brushing the glass into a pan, and straight to her eyes. "I have to ask something that's been on my mind."

His face froze. Quietly, he muttered a hoarse, "Yes?"

Emma smiled reassuringly, not wanting to scare him off. "Did you maybe…Did you meet someone else when you were in Italy?"

"What?" He asked, not moving a muscle.

"Well," Emma began again, a bit shy about her question now. "I was just wondering if maybe you met someone else. We were never really an official thing before you left, so I wouldn't blame you or anything. And you're so cute, I'd completely understand."

At some point, maybe midway through her reply, understanding lit Lovino's eyes, and he relaxed, releasing a heavy breath he'd been holding in for too long.

Then he chuckled lightly, picking up the new glass the waiter had set for him and pouring another glass of wine. "No, not really. I went on a few dates, but nothing serious."

"Really? You didn't meet any pretty Italian girls while you were away?" Emma asked again, happy but slightly suspicious.

Lovino for some reason was laughing more. "No. I mean, I met some, sure. But they're not really, um –" he stopped and looked away, his blush darkening and spreading down his cheeks. "Never mind."

Emma raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparkling in her bright eyes. "Not really what?"

Lovino's face was bright red, but there was little he could do to hide it. "I-I don't know."

"Not really your type?" Emma suggested, hoping to ease Lovino's embarrassment, no matter how cute it was to watch.

His eyes snapped to hers in a second, but whatever he was searching for he didn't seem to find it and he returned to grasping his glass of wine with a shaky hand. "Y-yeah," was all he said in reply.

"Oh, I feel so flattered," Emma giggled. "To think that I'm able to compete with all of the fabulous Sofia Lorens out there."

Lovino only smiled as he continuously downed his glass and poured another. He was halfway through the bottle.

And it was when the bottle was almost finished that something worse happened.

Emma was still stuck on the topic of types and love-interests, trying desperately to pry any information about Lovino that she could, when a visitor stopped by.

"Have you every had a serious girlfriend before?" She asked, leaning over the desk and admiring how handsome Lovino looked in candlelight.

Lovino on the other hand, was not so comfortable. The subject made him fidgety as well as surprisingly thirsty, but the more he drank, the less fidgety he got, and slowly he was replying in longer, perhaps more honest sentences. "N-no, not really," he began. He always started his answers hesitantly before adding more information. "I've been on lots of dates, but I've never really been interested in having a relationship before."

"Oh, why's that?"

His forehead creased and he looked down at his plate, still mostly full of quiche. "I'm not sure. I've just never wanted to be with somebody that way, I guess."

"Really? No one?" Emma gawked at him, surprised. "Not even a crush you never talked to?"

She watched as Lovino's fist balled, how his eyes stayed pointed decidedly away from her. Then suddenly another voice interrupted. It was familiar to both of them, and neither of them enjoyed the sound.

"Lovi!" He called, and at once Lovino's eyes shot up from the table, darting frantically for him.

Emma did the same, her heart pounding and her eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion, frustration, and jealousy.

They both caught sight of Antonio, who'd walked close to the table and standing nearer to Lovino than anyone would've liked. He was dressed in his farm clothes: a dirty, red button-down and a torn pair of jeans. But it suited him. And even the careless disarray of curls and mess of dirt and scrapes on his hands from working earlier in the day were characteristically charming. Emma thought she was finally over her grudge against him, but when his smile broadened, and his green eyes crinkled, her heart stuttered and she decided _No_. Even now, the bitter heartache of an unrequited crush plagued her. And she couldn't help but feel bitter around him.

"Antonio," Emma said, speaking instead of Lovino. "I haven't seen you in a while. What are you doing here?" She forced a smile out of politeness, and watched Antonio carefully. She was aware that her cheeks felt warm and her palms suddenly sweaty, but she didn't care. Antonio was gay. She was sure of it. Which is why it hurt so much more that she was still attracted to him. It hurt to have no chance at all.

Antonio was still smiling, like always, and it was painful to watch, but Emma still did so. "Sorry to interrupt. I was in town with Berwald on a few errands and we decided to get dinner. I didn't think I'd run into you two here!" He announced with an easy laugh, and slowly his gaze shifted to Lovino. "Are you two here on a date?"

"N–"

"Yes," Emma responded automatically, a tinge of anger slipping into her voice. Afterwards she realized Lovino had begun to answer too, and when she thought she might have heard him say no she finally turned her attention to him.

Lovino was busy hiding half of his face with his palm, but it was obvious how scarlet his blush had become.

Emma took note and looked back to Antonio who'd also been watching Lovino's expression with avid interest. Emma narrowed her eyes. She saw that look on Antonio's face before, when she ran into him in the nursery several months ago. What was it? His mouth was turned up, slightly parted, like torn between talking and listening, and his eyes seemed so vivid, so green, so alive – he seemed so consumed with watching Lovino. Like a moth to the moon and stars. He looked intoxicated. He looked addicted. Emma's heart tore when she realized: Antonio. Looked. Head. Over. Heels. In. Love. _With Lovino._

"How've you been doing Lovino? I haven't seen you in a while," Antonio spoke again, his lips caressing the name Lovino so much, Emma thought her heart was splintering.

"Yeah, I, um…" Lovino's voice trailed away, and Emma turned to him. He wasn't hiding behind his hand anymore, and it seemed like he couldn't help but meet Antonio's gaze. His features seemed so soft, so delicate, like even though he was flushed and shaking, he was happy. Then his lips pressed together and his eyes turned down to the wine glass. He took another sip. "I've been busy. What'd you expect bastard?"

Antonio briefly looked to Emma, and kept his smile. "I can see that," he said, his voice slightly quieter and less cheery. His body swayed closer to Lovino, his hand gripped the back of the chair, grazing the back of Lovino's shirt. "But I've missed you. Maybe we can hang out sometime."

Lovino's face seemed so bright: Emma wondered if it was in happiness or anger. But…Lovino didn't look like that when he was angry. Come to think of it, he's never looked like that before. He seemed so anxious, so unsure and fearful. Not a confident and successful twenty-something-year-old. Like a helpless teenage boy.

Emma noticed the shine in Lovino's eyes – excitement and sadness. "Yeah, I," he stopped and cleared his throat. "Maybe sometime." He seemed to detect where Antonio's hand was and made a conscious move to lean a bit further over the table, ears glowing.

"Sounds wonderful," Antonio smiled. He looked like he wanted to touch Lovino again. "I was wondering if you had the chance to try the tomatoes. Did you?"

"Th-the what?" Lovino asked, pushing his quiche around on his plate.

"The tomatoes we planted. They're perfectly ripe right now. You should try them. They're delicious," Antonio's voice deepened at the last part, his eyes glittering in amusement. He enjoyed the sight of Lovino dropping the fork, and the string of curses following.

When he managed to say something coherent, it went like, "I doubt it bastard. I'm sure they're fucking weird tomatoes."

"Will you try them anyway though? I'd love it if you did," Antonio said, his tone more meaningful, but the smile still there.

Lovino was still trying to hide. From Emma and Antonio. Hesitantly, he answered, "Y-yeah, I'll eat them. Whatever." He looked up to Antonio, a bit more curious than nervous. "Did something happen?"

Antonio laughed immediately, like Lovino said something funny. "What do you mean?"

Lovino pursed his lips, like he was trying to scrutinize Antonio's face. "You seem different again. Like usual."

"Is that bad?" Antonio replied, his voice light and humorous.

"No," Lovino said and at once turned down in embarrassment. He continued anyway, "B-but I thought the other day you were…oh fuck. I don't care. Just leave already. You've been here too long."

Again, Antonio laughed, and it was that beautiful, earthy, true laugh that everyone loved. That Emma loved.

"Well, I'll see you at home anyway," Antonio finally replied. His smile seemed more mysterious. "Try not to hide so much, alright."

Lovino slammed his fist, eyes golden, passionate, staring right at Antonio. "I'm not hiding! I'm busy! I have a fucking job to do, you know."

"I suppose so," Antonio chuckled, his hands running through his curls. "Try to make time for me then."

Lovino opened his mouth to say something crude, something mean, but he stopped himself. Had Emma ever seen Lovino's eyes so conflicted, so sensitive and enigmatic? Maybe she'd never really seen him at all. The glance he gave Antonio when Antonio wasn't paying attention was so true. He liked Antonio. He liked him in a way he never liked Emma.

When Antonio turned back, Lovino was already facing the table, and he muttered his final reply, "Whatever bastard. Just go back to the damn grapes."

Antonio was already smiling, but he softened to something that silently read _I'd do anything_. And Emma knew he meant it. "See you later, Lovi," Antonio called, as he slowly walked away. He caught sight of Emma's eyes and added, "Bye Emma. Have a nice dinner." And he was gone. It didn't seem like he was here for dinner at all, but Emma already knew that.

Lovino didn't seem like he realized, he was too busy finishing the wine and mumbling foul Italian under his breath. That's what Emma thought at least. But then in a subtle movement, he was holding onto his cross necklace, his eyes were closed, and it looked like he was praying.

_Oh._

Everything clicked into place. Emma understood. She was never in the picture. Her unrequited love for Antonio was still unrequited; he only had eyes for one. And she thought perhaps Lovino could be hers, one day, somehow. But he would never be interested. Because whether Lovino Vargas was gay or not, one thing was for certain: he liked Antonio Carriedo.

But it seemed like Lovino didn't want any of this.

Emma sighed in resignation. Despite her heartbreak and sadness, she was frustrated with Lovino. It's so often to walk the earth never having your love returned, why couldn't he realize how lucky he was? He needed to be pushed.

"Lovino," she said, her voice smooth but her eyes somber. Lovino snapped to attention too quickly, just remembering she was there. She laughed bitterly, "Do you even like me?"

He stared and his color drained. "Wh-what? Of course I do," he stuttered, and tried to grasp at any remaining confidence.

"I don't think so," she said and she held Lovino's gaze. "I think you like somebody else."

In a flash, his face reddened once more, and his eyes shined in embarrassment, like he wanted to cry. But he held his scowl and replied, "No, I don't. I don't give a fuck about that tomato bastard with his stupid comments and hippie lifestyle, and his dumb, stupid Spanish accent." He grew more impassioned as he spoke, but as soon as he finished his eyes widened in horrification and he tried to backtrack, "Sh-shit. Stop looking at me like that! I swear, I hate the guy. I always have. Haven't you been listening to what I'm saying? He's always just so stupid a-and…_there,_ and – ugh! It drives me insane! And I swear he knows what I'm thinking half the time. And he's so dumb. And he doesn't even like red wine! Did you know that?"

Emma only looked at him, quiet and dejected. Then she spoke calmly, "Lovino, I've never liked it when you lied."

"I'm not lying," he replied loudly.

"Well, you're not telling the whole truth."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, and he closed his eyes in frustration. "I do hate him. I can't stand him."

Emma's heart melted a bit and she wished she could lecture Lovino into understanding. But she couldn't. He would never listen anyway. He was just too stubborn.

So she exhaled again and she gathered her things. "That's too bad then. Because it's obvious he likes you."

Lovino flinched, but didn't open his eyes. He might've mumbled some sort of protest, but Emma didn't bother to hear it.

"Lovino, you're very lucky," she said, her smile weak and her voice high, almost broken. Emma stood up to swing her purse over her shoulder and she placed a hand on Lovino's shoulder, calling his attention to her eyes again. "You have the possibility for a great love story. You've found someone amazing who loves you back," she paused, wiping a few tears away. "So, coming from someone who's still looking. I wouldn't waste it if I were you."

She pressed a light quick to his cheek, barely grazing it at all, and didn't stay a second longer before she fled through the door.

She wanted Lovino to be happy. She did. And as sad as she felt right now, she knew that if Lovino decided to squander it all, she would feel even worse.

Why can't people realize how lucky they have it until it's too late?

~/~

Lovino was confused. He was confused about what he was feeling, what just happened, about his meeting with Antonio…He was just so damn confused.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. At least Emma knew he wasn't interested in her the way she wanted him to be; and although he would've loved more than anything to be in a relationship with her and save himself from this religious torture, he hated lying to her. So at least there was that.

However, that was only a very small relief in the grand scheme of things.

After Emma left dinner, Lovino sat there in a bit of a daze, just replaying Antonio's interruption, Emma's words, and everything else in his head. And when he was finally sick of sitting by himself at the table he paid the check and took off. It was a comfort to be on his motorcycle again. Only then did he feel free, capable, unafraid and unattached to anything. God and Antonio couldn't find him there. He could run away any time he pleased. He wouldn't, because of Feli of course. And the vineyards. And Nonno. But he could.

It was nighttime when he rolled down the driveway, and the lanterns bordering the road flickered orange and yellow near the grass. Lovino's eyes darted to the tomatoes unwillingly. After he parked the motorcycle, Lovino snuck over to the garden, sneaky and suspiciously, like a thief, until he was crouched near the tomato plants. Reluctantly, Lovino admitted it: Antonio was right. The tomatoes did look good. He really did have a way with plants, it was obvious.

As Lovino grasped one shiny tomato from the vine his lips turned up in a half-smile. Then there was some shuffling nearby, and a voice called:

"Lovino!"

"Holy fuck!" Lovino blurted, and at once he fell over, the tomato toppling near his side. As he was scrambling for his dignity, Lovino pushed himself up and tried to find that infuriating, stupid, asshole of a "bastard!"

Antonio appeared by his side, a bit too close, but trying to help Lovino up anyway. He was smiling and glinting, and when his hands touched Lovino's to haul him to his knees, Lovino swore his skin felt like fire.

"I'm so happy you came," Antonio said, his voice too quiet and too smooth. Lovino shivered and slapped his hand away. Antonio was still grinning and settled for sitting down next to him. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."

Lovino blushed and tried to hide his face. He didn't want Antonio to see him at all. It was dark, but at the same time, it made this feel clearer, more intimate. "Bastard, I'm not listening to you. I wanted a snack."

Antonio chuckled, light and easily. "Ah, was that it then? Well, that's fine. You'll have to tell me what you think." He looked at him expectantly, his eyes trailing all over Lovino's face.

Lovino waited for Antonio to say something else, and then he realized Antonio was waiting for him. Lovino glared at him. "What? You mean now?"

Antonio nodded.

"What the fuck? I just had dinner. I don't want a random tomato right now," Lovino said, stumbling over the words following dinner. When he saw Antonio's face light up with a question, some other stupid-ass thing he wanted to talk about, Lovino quickly interrupted, "B-but what the hell are you doing up? Wasn't your bedtime like an hour ago?"

Antonio still looked at him like he was debating whether to allow Lovino to drop the subject or not, and finally his lips turned up in a small smile that told Lovino he'd talk about that later and he looked at the stars. "_Si_, well it's supposed to be. I couldn't sleep. I got a phone call earlier and it kind of woke me up. I thought I'd come out here and relax."

"You got a phone call?" Lovino asked skeptically. He was sure it was from one of Antonio's drunk, weirdo friends. "Why would that keep you up?"

Antonio laughed a bit louder and he brushed some of his curls away from his face. "Ah, no reason. It was a silly conversation. If I stay out here for a bit longer, I'll get sleepy," he said, his voice gentle and calm.

Lovino didn't know whether to believe him or not. "Are you saying you'd fall asleep with me here?"

"Um," Antonio paused to think. Then he turned to Lovino with a happy smile. "Yes, I think so!"

"_Tch_ –" Lovino blushed and fiddled with the tomato in his hands. "So you're saying I'm boring, is that it?" In less than a second, Lovino regretted what he said, and he realized Antonio's shoulder brushed his and that warm laugh played nearer to his ears.

"Lovino, even you must know that you're the most un-boring person in all of California. Probably in all of Italy and Spain too."

Carefully, Lovino tilted his gaze up to examine Antonio's face. He was always so distracted by the green eyes, the smile, the tan, it was hard to see much else. But there was so much more. Lovino was sure of it now. Though Antonio was an excellent actor, an excellent liar, he couldn't lie when he didn't talk. His eyes were still emerald green, but they seemed tired; they were still vibrant, but it seemed like they sparkled more from sadness now than excitement. And it seemed so exhausting to hold that smile all day, Lovino wondered what he looked like when no one was looking.

"What is it?" Antonio asked, drawing Lovino's attention away from his green eyes and to his mouth.

"What?" Lovino repeated, blushing and scratching his neck when he realized he was staring at Antonio's lips now. He shifted his gaze to the floor.

"You were staring at me. It looked like you wanted to say something," Antonio said, his voice inviting and pleasant. But when wasn't it?

"I," Lovino began and stopped himself in doubt. "Well, I was kind of wondering if something hap–"

A jolly, acoustic ringtone interrupted him, and suddenly Antonio was scrambling his pockets to find the source. He fished out an old flip-phone (it made Lovino internally cringe), and after a brief glance at the screen he opened it to start talking.

"_Hola mamá, ¿cómo estás?_" He began and offered Lovino an apologetic smile. There was a lot of talking on the other line, all Spanish, and Antonio seemed like he was straining to keep an amiable face in front of Lovino.

And for once it was obvious.

"_Lo siento, no me refiero a preocuparte. Es sólo que - sí, lo entiendo. Lo siento. Pero yo no he cambiado de opinión_," Antonio replied hurriedly, his tongue skidding over the r's. If he didn't sound so positively nervous, Lovino might've remembered how attractive that was. But he did, and so much so it was making Lovino nervous.

"Um, is everything okay?" Lovino prodded tentatively, his fingers reaching out to touch Antonio's shoulder, calling his attention.

Antonio was hunched over his knees, his phone pressed fervently to his ear; Spanish was leaking into the quiet night air, but for once it didn't sound pleasant. At the touch, he looked up from the ground, met Lovino's wide, worried eyes and remembered to smile. He mouthed a simple It's fine! and waved his hand dismissively. There was still chattering on the other end, but Antonio decided to hold the phone against his shirt, muffling the voices. He stood up a bit clumsily, knocking some tomatoes as he tried to find his footing.

"Where are you going?" Lovino whispered, following Antonio's bumbling escape with tense eyes.

Antonio managed to look over his shoulder, eyes hidden in the shadows, but his smile perfectly visible. Blinding. "Ah, don't worry Lovino. I just have to take this. It's my, um," he paused with uncharacteristic unease. But he took a breath and his smile was back. "It's my family, so I can't really say no. But I'll see you tomorrow, okay? _Buenas noches_, Lovino."

"But I," Lovino tried to call after him, scrambling to his feet as well. Antonio had already skipped down the path though, and by the sound of his voice and footsteps, it didn't seem like he wanted to be followed. Lovino's heart sank and he watched him go. Why did he feel so worried? But the look on Antonio's face, the fear in his voice, it made Lovino want to wrap his arms around him and tell him everything was fine. When he realized where his thoughts had gone again, Lovino flushed and picked up his tomato with a huff. "God fucking damn it," he muttered and started bundling several others in his arms.

He'd show Feli who could talk to that bastard.

~/~

The next day, when Feli came downstairs for a late breakfast, he smelled something different than Tino's usual toast and butter, sausage and pastry. It smelled Italian, like...lasagna? Was that possible?

He entered the kitchen with a growling stomach and was pleasantly surprised to see Lovino standing near the stove, red apron tied at the waist, and his glare directed at a pot of tomato sauce.

"Ve~ _Ciao fratello_! What are you making?" Feli asked, and skipped to Lovino's side to inspect the different ingredients.

Lovino stiffened and his red blush didn't go unnoticed. "I'm making some damn lasagna, what does it look like?"

"Ah, but you don't usually cook anymore. What brought this on?" Feliciano looked up, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Well, um," Lovino picked up the wooden spoon and stirred mindlessly to distract himself. "I-I was talking to Antonio the other day…"

Feli bit his lip to stifle his ecstatic giggle. "Yes," he urged, poking Lovino in the shoulder.

Lovino gripped his arm and turned away, trying in vain to hide how transparent his face was. "W-well, I was talking to him the other day, and it kind of looking like he was – I don't know. Kind of down. So I-I thought I'd…"

"Yes?~" Feliciano leaned against Lovino's shoulder, begging for him to continue.

"A-and – god damn it. I thought I'd make some fucking lasagna to cheer him up, alright? Sue me," he yelled, settling back to his safe nook near the oven in the next moment.

Feliciano clapped his hands together in a feat of triumph before pulling Lovino close for a messy hug. "Aw, Lovi! That's so sweet! I'm so proud of you! That's definitely going cheer him up. I'm sure he'll be _so_ excited." Feliciano made sure to emphasize the _so_ in a way that made Lovino flush darker in adorable embarrassment.

"Y-yeah, whatever. It's just fucking lasagna," Lovino mumbled, taking care to focus only on the tomato sauce and not at all at Feli's grinning, giddy face.

"But it's lasagne you made, Lovi. And with his tomatoes. That's just so–"

"Damn it! Don't you have some notebook to scribble this dumb crap in?" Lovino shouted, shooing Feliciano away with a wave of the hot, messy spoon.

Feliciano just laughed as he finished the thought in his head.

Lovino was just so..._sweet._

~/~

When the lasagne was finally done it was already near two in the afternoon, and both Feliciano and Lovino were miserable with hunger and frustration. Lovino refused to eat until the lasagna was done, and Feliciano refused to eat anything but lasagne, because he always considered Lovino's lasagna to be the best in the family.

But after it was finally finished, and Lovino squared off a hearty piece for Antonio, Feliciano was able to finally eat his late breakfast-turned-into-a-late-lunch, while he documented today's interesting events in his journal.

Lovino placed his spectacular cut of lasagna on the center of a clean plate, and only stopped to for a second to smack Feliciano lightly on the head, encouraging him to Shut the hell up. Then he hurried out the door before Tino would gush too.

He exhaled in relief outside, but secretly, Lovino was hoping he wouldn't have to actually give the lasagna to Antonio. Maybe just pass it along to Berwald or Kiku because Antonio was mowing, or gardening, or whatever the fuck he does.

So he muttered a silent prayer and continued walking shyly down the path. As he passed the lemon tree something caught his attention, and Lovino stopped to see. His heart stuttered when he realized it was Antonio. And Antonio was sleeping soundly near the tree, more in the sun than the shade, his breathing slow and deep.

Lovino almost dropped the plate in surprise. Of all things he didn't expect Antonio to be sleeping. Wasn't that something he did later in the afternoon?

"God damn that lazy bastard," Lovino mumbled, and crept closer despite everything. He wandered around so that he could peer at Antonio's face, maybe to check if he was crying like Feliciano said he was some time ago. Ah. But he wasn't.

Antonio's face was calm. His lips turned up, like he was having a good dream. His cheeks soft and relaxed, warm with the sun and his tan. His lashes were still and featherlight, and his hair, like always, was splayed in a mess of untamed curls. It was an infuriatingly attractive look. Lovino hated that he liked it.

But at least he looked happy, Lovino thought. It was a weight off of his chest seeing him like that. He looked down at the lasagna and wondered what to do. Should he leave it here? But there are ants. Maybe if he put it on top of Antonio. But the clumsy bastard would most likely knock it over.

Lovino sighed in exasperation. He'd just have to leave it with Berwald and Kiku, and that meant walking the long way to the farmers' house. Before he took a step away he glanced back at Antonio. There were leaves in his hair and it bothered Lovino.

So swiftly, Lovino looked right and left, all around for anyone looking, and he knelt to Antonio's side. He set the plate down on the ground and slowly, deftly, he lifted his fingers over Antonio's face, brushed them purposefully over the skin of his cheekbone, because it beckoned him, and then made work on plucking the leaves from Antonio's hair. One. Two. Three. Four. That was all. But before he forced himself to go away, Lovino delicately threaded his fingers through the soft hair. He didn't know why. He just had to. It always looked so tempting. And it was as soft as it seemed.

But the wind blew like a warning, and Lovino quickly retracted his hand, picked up the plate and stalked away. He didn't want to look over his shoulder, just in case Antonio hadn't been sleeping the whole time.

Why did God have to torture him after doing a good deed, damn it.

~/~

Antonio had a good dream. He dreamt of sunshine and grapevines. It was the Tesoro vineyard, but somehow more spectacular. Why was that? He felt someone touch his face and he looked to his side. Oh, that was right.

With a smile and uncontrollable laughter, Antonio looped his arms around Lovino and pulled him to his chest. This was heaven. It was perfection. The warmth, the softness, the smell of sweet-scented, rosy cologne. And Lovino seemed so close, like they were magnetic.

It wasn't like the nightmares before. His family wasn't here yelling. Lovino wasn't running away crying.

He knew it was a dream. He knew it. But he savored it anyway. Lovino could never be so intimate, though he was more tender than he let on, he's too guarded to ever show it. But here, now, he's holding on to Antonio, his hands on his cheeks, his lips at his jaw. Fingers tangled in Antonio's hair and it felt so soothing, so real. Was Lovino's touch always so gentle?

Antonio wanted to see his eyes. What was Lovino thinking? What did this mean? he wanted to see the gold, the brown, the dark and the light. He wanted to see, he did but something was blocking his view–

White flashed in front of him, and then there was green. Antonio glanced around without moving, trying to comprehend. He groaned helplessly when he realized it really was all a dream. And he never got to see Lovino's eyes too.

He flopped on his back and rolled his head to the side. Not too far ahead there was a figure. Lovino.

He was walking very fast, very determined, straight for the farmers' house. If he was so close, Antonio wondered if some part of his dream was real after all.

Antonio laughed softly, smiled, and ran his fingers over the grass in inexplicable happiness.

~/~

Lovino locked himself away again. After he shoved the lasagna at Berwald he rushed an awkward "Here you go. Don't say anything. Just hand it to the dumb bastard. And no, not you, not Kiku. The dumb-ass, Spanish one. _Ciao._" Then at once he sprinted back to the main house, not bothering to check on Antonio or whatever else. He went all the way up to his room, his second haven and slammed the door. He wasn't taking any chances.

For a while, Lovino busied himself with meticulously folding and ironing all of his clothes. He was stressed and stupidly nervous, and it was the only way to distract himself. But eventually that ran out, and he focused on work. He called Nonno, the usual managers, the marketing staff, whatever, and when he got annoyed, Lovino decided to chuck the phone on the bed and do something else.

But what else? Was there anything else? It suddenly scared him when he realized how his life was almost completely dominated by work. He must have some hobbies. Didn't he used to do something? Oh, he used to keep a journal like Feli. That was something. He supposed he could start that again; perhaps it would clear his mind. Now, Lovino scurried around his grand bedroom, hunting for any notebook, any forgotten leather-bound or paperback he could write in. Lovino muttered a quiet "aha" at the sight of a red notebook snuggled between two novels, and he remembered at once it was a journal he'd meant to write in at the beginning of his move to California. Well, he screwed that up.

Pen in hand, Lovino opened the book to start. What to write? What…

At once Lovino thought of Antonio. Of the millions of ways he wanted to describe those eyes, that smile, that infuriating, goddamn Spanish accent, the laugh, the walk, the breath, the tilt of the head. Every single thing.

What did he always say Antonio was like? Was it sunshine? That doesn't seem true anymore. Antonio's not so clear, not so truthful. He was more like fire. A candle or a bonfire? It all depended. Sometimes, very recently, it looked like Antonio was ready to be extinguished – like that immortal charm and warmth could actually be ended at any moment. Then at other times, when Lovino least wanted it, Antonio was like a wildfire. Strong, passionate, contagious, and closing in on Lovino from every angle.

Lovino frowned and laid his forehead against the paper in frustration. What the fuck was he doing writing this?

_Tap!_

Lovino lifted his head lazily and looked around. What's that sound?

_Tap!_

"Damn it," Lovino mumbled, and stood up from the chair to wander around the room. No one was here. Could it be something outside? He unlocked the doors to the balcony and swung them open. _Holy–_ "What the fuck?" He shouted, and his eyes widened in surprise and fear.

Antonio was straddling the railing of the balcony, in the process of climbing over, and when he met Lovino's eyes his face predictably broke out in a smile. "Oh, hey Lovi!" He plopped down on the balcony floor, and Lovino made a preemptive step backwards into his room. Antonio grinned mischievously and announced, "Ta-da!"

"_Ta-da_? What the fuck do you mean _ta-da_? What are you doing on my balcony? How'd you even get up here?" Lovino blurted, hiding his shaking hands behind his back.

Antonio looked at him like it were obvious. "I climbed up of course! Haven't you noticed the vine right there? I always meant to cut it, but…" he laughed suspiciously, and Lovino narrowed his eyes. "Anyway, it came in handy today!"

"What, are you going to rob me or something?" Lovino asked sarcastically.

Antonio's eyes lit in amusement at the suggestion, and it worried Lovino the way he didn't laugh, and only smiled smoothly. "I actually came here to thank you."

Lovino's cheeks reddened and he turned his gaze away. "Thank me for what?"

"The lasagna you made. It was really good! And it made me happy knowing you used our tomatoes," he said, his voice sincere.

Lovino crossed his arms and curled his fingers in the loose fabric. "Don't get excited bastard. Feli's the one who begged me to make lasagna. You were lucky to get the extras," he lied, but his skin burned anyway. He was sure Antonio knew.

"Ah, I see," was the unexpected reply, and Lovino looked up to see Antonio looking away wistfully, his smile smaller (it never disappeared entirely).

Lovino suddenly regretted what he said. He only wanted to make Antonio feel better. Why did he always have to do something stupid?

"H-how are you doing?" Lovino blurted, and nervously waited for Antonio to meet his eyes again.

Antonio looked so touched it made Lovino's heart stop. He smiled genuinely and said, "I'm doing well."

"Really?" Lovino asked skeptically, and leaned against the doorframe.

Something like acknowledgement glinted in Antonio's eyes. "Yes," he replied, his voice so sure. "I had a wonderful dream actually."

Lovino hated that mysterious smile. "Well, why are you telling me?"

"No reason," Antonio chuckled and ran his fingers over the metal.

Lovino watched him balance against the wiry metal. "Hey, get the fuck away from there."

"Hm," Antonio looked up confused but took one step forward. "Why?"

"Because you're making me nervous! It looks like that thing could fall over at any minute," Lovino snapped, and encouraged Antonio over with his waving hands.

Antonio didn't seem to mind at all, and walked over even happier.

"Oh, shut it," Lovino said automatically, pressing himself closer to the doorway and away from Antonio's near figure.

"I didn't say anything," Antonio smiled, his voice quiet.

"You were thinking something, and knowing you, it was probably something stupid," Lovino mumbled and fidgeted with his necklace.

Antonio noticed the movements but didn't say anything. He rubbed his arms and looked at Lovino helplessly. "It's kind of cold out here, isn't it?"

"Not really. I like the cold anyway," Lovino mumbled, a bit self-conscious. If only it was colder. He caught Antonio looking at him again and he frowned. "What are you doing here anyway? Was it just to thank me? Is there anything else you wanted, bastard?"

Antonio's eyes softened and he gave Lovino another small, meek smile. "I just wanted to be with you for a little while."

Lovino stared at him. He stared at him for too long until he remember to a.) frown and b.) look away. His face was too, too warm. "Fine. Whatever."

Antonio let out a small gasp of unexpected happiness, and looked torn between moving closer and hugging Lovino and staying where he was.

Lovino shifted so he was leaning against the wall, still with his arms crossed. He watched Antonio and Antonio watched him, and although it seemed like the bastard was perfectly content with the situation, even possibly happy, Lovino was frustrated.

"Now what?" Lovino demanded, and he felt the heat travel down his neck.

"I don't know," Antonio shrugged, and his eyes looked up briefly. He made eye contact again, his eyes dark. "How was dinner the other day?"

"Fine," Lovino responded automatically, his tone defensive. But he knew Antonio knew it was all a lie and his resolve wavered. "Well, Emma and I ended up breaking up, so I guess it wasn't all fine."

"Oh, I didn't know you were together," Antonio said, and it irritated Lovino that he didn't even sound empathetic.

"Well we were," Lovino replied aggressively and turned away.

After a moment, Antonio added, "I'm sorry."

Lovino sighed. He couldn't lie about this anymore. "No, it's alright." He paused. "I never really liked her that way anyway."

"Oh," Antonio echoed, his tone thoughtful. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," was Lovino's only reply, and he watched the clouds move near the moon. He was still thinking of that phone call, of those strange things Feli told him. Maybe he could ask Antonio now? "U-um, hey." As if he needed to catch Antonio's attention, he was already staring at him anyway.

"Yes?"

Lovino gulped. "We're f-friends, right?" Crap, that probably sounded so dumb.

Of course, of the many maddening reactions, Antonio chose to laugh. And he sounded so amused, Lovino was briefly tempted to slap him in the shoulder. But that would mean getting closer. And touching him.

When his laugh had died down, his eyes were still shining and he grinned at Lovino. "Something like that, I think."

_Damn it, why did he have to say something like that_, Lovino thought. Wasn't it cold just a moment ago? His palms were sweating now. "W-well, I was wondering… that phone call you got the other day. Did something happen?"

Antonio's smile wavered. "No, not really," he said, and brushed some of his curls away. "It was just my parents."

"Oh." Lovino waited for any elaboration, but it was still silent. "Are they okay?"

Now, Antonio shifted his hands to his jean pockets and flexed them in there. "Yeah, they're fine. They just…" Antonio's voice trailed off and he checked Lovino's expression. Suddenly, he chuckled and closed his eyes. "Ah, it doesn't matter. It's not really that important."

"Why not?" Lovino asked, his blood boiling. This was getting annoying. Why couldn't Antonio just spit it out already. He wanted to know. "Damn it, do you not trust me or something?"

Antonio looked at him, and this time it seemed as if he were measuring him up. His lips turned up slightly, secretly. "Why do you even want to know?"

Lovino stood up straighter. "Because–" He stopped and tried to think of any excuse. "M-maybe I can help?" His cheeks burned in embarrassment. He actually just said that.

Antonio didn't seem so fazed, but he did smile slightly, his eyes shining. "You can't really," he said simply and stared in the direction of the vineyards. It was quiet, and Lovino waited in baited breath. It looked like Antonio was rehearsing the words. Then he inhaled. "My parents are still upset with me about a few things." His lips pressed together. "They cut me off a few years ago, so I decided to go to America with Francis and Gilbert. But I guess they always thought I would come back anyway."

Lovino took a step closer without realizing. "S-so your parents are pretty wealthy?"

"Yeah," Antonio sighed. He didn't seem happy about it. "Very wealthy."

"Oh. What do they do?"

"They're in politics," Antonio replied smoothly. "My father's one of the deputy prime ministers. And my mother's a _condesa_. She holds a lot of parties and charities."

"Really?" Lovino gawked, more surprised than impressed. "Well, that's kind of cool."

Antonio laughed once. "Sometimes. We had a lot of animals which was nice. A lot of horses," he said and he seemed momentarily happy. "But they also had a lot of expectations, and I didn't really do a good job of living up to them."

"Did they want you to go into politics?" Lovino asked, his voice skeptical. He couldn't see Antonio doing that _at all_. It seemed almost wrong.

"_Si_, they did," he said. "They at least hoped I would be someone… else. Smarter, calmer, more serious, more normal."

"Normal?"

Antonio fidgeted and he laughed nervously. "Yeah, they were kind of upset to find out I was, um, bisexual. I think that might've been the last straw, because after that they kicked me out and they cut me off not too long after."

"Oh, that's…" Lovino looked away, he felt awful. Even if he was gay – which he's not – he knew his parents wouldn't care anyway. They'd be just as fucking interfering, just as happy, just as stupid. But they wouldn't kick him out. That's just– "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he laughed quietly some more. It was fake. "I was sad at first, but Francis and Gilbert picked me up and they let me stay at their places. Then they talked about going to California, and since my parents still wouldn't talk to me I thought I might as well go away." He glanced at the floor and at Lovino. "And then I found out how beautiful it was, and I was happy!"

Lovino's cheeks warmed at the last comment, despite the topic of conversation. "B-but now they want you to go back?"

Antonio's smile faltered again. "Well, they're wondering if I've 'grown up' any, I guess. And apparently my sister Isabel left home to marry some Brazilian, so they don't have her anymore either." He crossed his arms protectively. "And she was their favorite so they're pretty upset about that. They thought she would go into politics at least."

_How could you not be their favorite?_ Lovino thought, and stared at him._ How could anyone not like you? Hell, even I… kind of, sort of… l-like you._

"Y-you're not going back though, are you?" Lovino asked warily. He didn't want to imagine Antonio being gone forever.

Antonio met his eyes again, his green eyes assured and certain again. "No, I don't think I will."

Lovino breathed a sigh of relief.

"Besides, I'd miss you if I left."

His heart skipped a beat. Against all better judgment, Lovino looked up, and he realized Antonio was much closer than before. When did he move?

Suddenly, Antonio's hand was on his and he was holding it lightly. Lovino's skin buzzed, and it scared him how thrilling this felt. Holding hands never felt like this before. His lashes fluttered when he noticed Antonio was smiling confidently again.

"For a long time I thought I could change myself to make my parents happy. Because I wanted them to be happy," he said, and his thumb grazed over the top of Lovino's skin lightly. "But I'm not really good at being anyone but myself," he stopped, his eyes eyes sparkled green, green, green. "And I don't really want to be anymore."

Lovino could only breathe as slowly as he could. Even curse words eluded his brain, he didn't know if he could talk at all. Everything was short-circuiting. Antonio was too close. His words were too goddamn dramatic. His eyes were too alluring. All Lovino wanted to do was lean a little bit closer, he wanted to try something he probably shouldn't. His body wanted to, his heart was telling him to, and his brain was too fried to say no.

If he just leaned a little bit closer he–

"Lovi!~" Feliciano's voice echoed through the bedroom into the air of the balcony.

Then sense kicked in.

"_Holy shit_," Lovino muttered under his breath and he shoved Antonio to the nearest wall away from the view of the glass balcony doors. He heard Antonio cough from the impact and he mumbled something quick to tell him to shut the hell up. "Feli? I'll be there in just a second. Just wait for me downstairs."

"Ve~ why?"

"Because I fucking said so," Lovino yelled, and turned away from Antonio's bemused face to glare in the direction of the door.

There was a small pause. "Oh, I get it. You're busy watching the vineyards for Ton-"

Lovino's eyes flashed to Antonio's in horror before he remembered to interrupt. "Shut the fuck up! You don't know what you're talking about. Just leave before I throw you off the balcony!"

Feliciano giggled, accustomed to the meaningless threats. "Ve~ alright then. I'll see you soon!" The door slammed, and Lovino waited until the footsteps died away.

Then he dared to look at Antonio again and jumped when he realized Antonio was trying not to laugh. "O-oh shut up! He doesn't know what he's talking about!" Lovino shouted and took several steps away so he was on the other side of the small balcony. He glared at Antonio when he started laughing out loud. "God damn it, I'm serious! I'll throw you off of this balcony too if you don't stop laughing, bastard!"

But Antonio didn't stop, and Lovino decided he'd had enough of this embarrassment, and started stomping back into his bedroom. Then he felt a grip on his forearm and he was twisted around. Antonio held him as he looked at him with dancing, mischievous eyes; mirth still lingering on his lips.

Lovino held up his fist in warning, and Antonio cracked a broad grin. "I'm not laughing! See, Lovi? I stopped," he said, and slowly, Lovino lowered his fist. Antonio's fingers held Lovino's arm carefully, reverently.

Lovino felt as though he'd had about enough of this. His emotions were too frayed. So his eyes tilted downwards and he muttered, "Whatever."

Antonio's grip loosened. "Do you want me to leave?"

Lovino's eyes stung, he didn't dare look up, and nodded a silently reply.

Slowly, Antonio's hand slid away, and Lovino instinctively touched the skin, like he was feeling a burn.

He thought that might've been the end of it, that this torture was finally over; but then…

Something grazed his cheek. Antonio's lips. It was a soft, delicate kiss, but it made Lovino's breath catch. His touch lingered for too long, yet not long enough. Lovino didn't want it, but suddenly it was something he needed.

Then Antonio pulled away, and Lovino saw his smile.

"_Buenas noches_, Lovi," he said quietly, and he turned towards the edge of the balcony.

As Antonio climbed over the railing, and down to the vine, out of view, but not unheard, Lovino stayed just as he was. He waited until Antonio was at the bottom, safe and sound, before he sank to the floor.

They were just words. They were just meaningless touches.

It was just a kiss on the cheek.

But then why was his heart telling him something different?

* * *

_~/~_

* * *

_*"The Lovers" by Jalalud'din Rumi_

_*Translation #1 – Hello mom, how are you?_

_*Translation #2 – I'm sorry, I don't mean to worry you. It's just that - yes, I understand. I'm sorry. But I haven't changed my mind._

_*Deputy prime minister - like a vice president to the prime minister_

_*Condesa – countess_

_*Isabel – female!Portugal, Antonio's sister_

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading. You have no idea how much I appreciate all of your favorites/follows/feedback/general encouragement and con-crit. I love all of it. *hugs* __I'll try my best to get the next chapter out faster. I will darn it!_

_Thank you. Please review :)_


	7. Chapter Seven: Macabeo

_I won't say much, but just so you know, there are some special treats for you lovely readers this chapter. _

_Also, before someone says anything: the poem at the end - I didn't forget to capitalize and use correct spaces - it's an E.E. Cummings poem. He bends the rules of English to his will. Just a head's up._

___I hope you enjoy! :3_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_Macabeo - A Spanish white wine variety that can be fresh, floral aromatic if harvested early, but weighty, honeyed and nutty when harvested slightly later._

~/~

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

"..._Bonjour_?" A sleepy, annoyed voice echoed through the phone.

Antonio didn't care, and at once broke out in a grin. "Ah, Francis! Is that you?"

Of course it was. That's who he dialed. "_Mon dieu_, Toni. What are you doing calling me at six in the morning?"

"That's not that early!" Antonio laughed and resumed his walk through the vineyard. He hadn't actually slept all, but for once it was a good thing.

"Well, it is for someone like me," Francis muttered with a sigh.

"Okay, well listen Francis. I want to run something by you and Gilbert. Can I stop by this afternoon?"

"Well, isn't that mysterious. Don't I get a clue?" He sounded more awake now.

Antonio chuckled and twirled a leaf between his fingers. "Nope! It'll be a surprise."

"I'm worried now."

"Haha, don't be. I'll stop by around three! See you then!"

"Toni, don't just hang up so quickly, I don't even–"

Antonio cut the call, still with a ridiculous smile. He felt giddy with happiness, his heart felt full: this was the best he felt in so long. Better than the spring. Now he knew for certain he'd never been in love before, because never in his life had he felt as spectacular as this.

All his mind could do was repeat the same thought.

_I'm in love with Lovino. I'm in love with Lovino. I'm in love…_

And at the same time, all his heart could do was beat with a similar question.

_I'm in love with Lovino, but… how does Lovino feel about me?_

~/~

Francis was tapping his foot impatiently as he nursed his glass of champagne. Jeanne was busy in the kitchen, fussing over some homemade hors d'oeuvres she wanted to make – though if the smoke leaking into the dining room was any indicator, it probably wasn't going very well. However, Francis could hardly mind the smoke when he noticed Gilbert blatantly staring, perhaps gawking would be more appropriate, at Jeanne's scars.

Like, _merde_, he's seen them before. But each time it's the same thing. It annoyed Francis to no end.

"Gil," he hissed, trying not to grab the attention of Jeanne too.

"Yeah?" Gilbert responded without moving a muscle.

Francis frowned. "You're staring. Stop it. Now."

At that, Gilbert seemed to realize what he was doing, again, and slowly, almost reluctantly, faced Francis again. He smiled awkwardly. "Uh, sorry Francis. I just – I don't know, I'm always so curious about it. It's kind of hard not to notice."

"You've seen her before. It's nothing new," Francis said harshly, and took a long sip of his champagne. First, his beauty sleep was interrupted, and now this. _Mon dieu_, what a bad omen for the day. He could only imagine the news Antonio wanted to share.

Gilbert didn't reply, and simply shrugged his shoulders with another apologetic smile. He returned to gazing out the window in wait of Antonio's dusty green bicycle rolling into the driveway.

Francis sighed, and finished his champagne. He knew Gilbert didn't mean any harm by it, but somehow it made him nervous that Jeanne might take it the wrong way, which of course, she wouldn't. If there was anyone with a thick skin and disregard for society's aesthetical expectations, it was her. She was French, but she was also her own person. She wore a chic outfit of all black pants and silk, green scarf and the next day she was in overalls and a t-shirt mucking out the horse stall. It was unnerving, but also pleasantly charming. (Francis wouldn't go near her until after she took a shower though, because she'd try to chase him with dirt and debris on her hands just to make him scream.)

He chuckled to himself until he smelled smoke, and at that point he began to take notice of Jeanne's cooking endeavors. With a screech, Francis slid his chair out from under the table and called, "_Mon chère_? Is everything alright in there?"

There was some careless laughter. _She's always so calm,_ Francis thought. _Which is not always a good thing,_ he added.

"Everything's fine!" She replied with a few coughs. She was still laughing. "I'm just… letting them air out for a little while."

Gilbert snickered, "I'll start opening the windows." As he was unlatching the glass panes he caught sight of someone moving outside. "Oh, hey Toni!" Gilbert yelled, and quickly retreated back inside. "He's here."

"Well, obviously," Francis rolled his eyes and leaned over to take a peak.

Gilbert pushed him back with a hand on his shoulder, "Wait. Stop. We need to act like everything's normal."

"Huh? What are you talking about? What isn't normal?" Francis asked, and suddenly Jeanne was pulling up a chair at their table, her apron still on, but also decidedly messy.

"I think I know what Antonio's going to say, and we have to act like everything's fine so he won't be scared away."

"_Mon ami_, you're scaring me. What could someone Toni say that would make him so scared of us?"

"Perhaps he wants to tell us he's moving away," Jeanne suggested with a calm smile.

"Move away to where?"

"Spain!" Gilbert yelled with a triumphant smile.

"Toni wouldn't move back to Spain," Francis replied, though his voice wavered with insecurity. _Would he?_

"How about France?" Jeanne pointed out.

"Toni doesn't have the money for that," Francis snapped, though Jeanne seemed entirely unaffected and just giggled.

They all heard footsteps, and Jeanne was the first to catch Antonio's bright, happy figure walking fast into the dining room.

"Ah, Toni," she said, and stood up to embrace him in a hug. He eagerly accepted the affection, and she continued, "You look so good! And in an even better mood than usual."

Antonio laughed readily, like the happy Antonio Gilbert and Francis were so accustomed to. He hadn't been like this in a long while. It made Francis suspicious.

"_Si_, I'm pretty happy," he replied and gave her a wink. "And I can't wait to tell all of you the good news." He turned to Francis and Gilbert eagerly.

"Here it comes," Gilbert whispered across the table.

Francis glared at him and paid attention to Antonio again, completely on guard. "Go ahead, Toni. We're listening."

It didn't escape Francis's sharp eye the slight reddish tinge that crept over Antonio's tan cheeks. It was rare to see Antonio blush.

"Well _amigos_, as you probably already know," he began, and his hands twisted nervously together. "I was kind of down for a while. For a long while actually."

Dread pinched Francis's heart.

"But that's because someone was missing, and I didn't realize how much I missed him until he returned two weeks ago."

_No, Toni. Just don't._

Antonio smiled, but it was almost bashful, shy, _loving._

_That's not good._

"So I think," he paused with a breath. "I think I'm in love with Lovino. And I want to tell him."

At the same time, Francis's skin turned ice-cold, Jeanne clapped in excitement, and Gilbert let out a long _"Ooooh"_ of understanding. Francis was the only one who saw the danger.

"Wait, did you say Lovino?" Jeanne asked, curiosity lighting her grey eyes.

Antonio turned to her with a tender smile. "_Si_, I did," he replied, and he smiled broader when he thought of something else. "But I also call him Lovi sometimes. He doesn't like that."

"Lovino, Lovino, Lovino," Jeanne repeated, a finger poised at her chin in thought. "I think I met someone like that in church a few months ago."

"Really?" Antonio asked, suddenly attentive.

"_Oui_, I believe so. And he seemed like he was confused about something too," Jeanne trailed off and eyed Antonio calculatingly. "He seemed to be having some sort of love trouble."

At that, Antonio deflated, but still laughed a light, meaningless sound. "Ah, yeah. He was going out with Emma for a while. It was probably about that."

Jeanne nodded, but the small smile turning up her lips didn't escape Francis's notice.

Gilbert slapped a hand across Antonio's back. "That's awesome man! It's been forever since you've taken an interest in someone!"

Antonio scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "_Si_, that's true. And Lovino's different. I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about him."

Oh dear. "_Mon cher_, are you not sure you're going maybe a bit too fast? What if he doesn't like you back?"

"What are you talking about?" Gilbert snapped, wrapping an arm around Antonio's shoulders. "If it's the same grumpy, red-faced kid I know, he'd be lucky to go out with Toni."

Jeanne watched Francis with an interested expression.

Francis's words had already done their job though, and Antonio's smile dropped until it was only a ghost. "No, Francis has a point. I can't really tell if Lovino feels the same way. I'm not sure if he even likes guys."

"Really? Can't you tell?" Gilbert asked.

Antonio pursed his lips. "Well, sometimes I think so. He acts a bit more clumsy around me than he does with women. But I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"You see? Perhaps you should just take a step back and wait a few months until you declare your undying love for him," Francis said placidly, easing a smooth smile on his face. He didn't want Antonio to get hurt. He couldn't bear it. He's already had to deal with rejection and contempt from his own family, if Lovino shuns him too - it's not as if Antonio has an undefeatable self-confidence. He can smile wide and laugh charmingly, but really, Antonio's just as insecure with himself as Lovino is. Perhaps he can forget when he's in love, because Antonio's so stupidly passionate when he is, but if Lovino let's his fear, his ego, get in the way of being together… that might crush Antonio for good.

"Don't bother listening to Francis, Toni. He thinks he knows everything about love because he's French," Gilbert said dismissively.

"Oh, and you think you know more?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Damn right! At least I have the sense to realize that Toni should be taking chances! What if I never got drunk and made a move on Mattie?"

Francis crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. "What a compelling argument."

Antonio, at this point, seemed torn between whom he should believe, and kept alternating glances between Gilbert and Francis. Then, when Antonio wasn't looking, Gilbert gave Francis a long look that said _Come on dumkompf, stop crushing your friend's heart like this. He's obviously head over heels!_

Francis pressed his lips together and stifled all of the things he wanted to say, to yell, to scream. Though naive, Gilbert does have a point. Francis doesn't have the right to squash his friend's dreams and tell him what to do.

But he wants to, because he knows he's right.

"Ah," Francis sang, forcing an easy smile across his features. "What am I saying? Gilbert's right. I'm French! A champion of _amour_. And you're from the country of passion. Of course you should go after him!"

Antonio's face lit up, his green eyes sparkling again, and his lips back in a warm smile. "You think so?"

Francis caught Gilbert's encouraging nod, and replied, "_Oui_, of course!" He paused in thought as he tried to find the right words for a warning. "But perhaps, if I may say, you should at least wait until you're somewhat sure of where he stands."

Gilbert glared at him, but Antonio appeared to be considering the words carefully.

"_Si_, you're probably right. I think he might, kind of like me," Antonio admitted with a light laugh, almost reluctant to believe. "But I don't know if he means it in the same way."

Some part of Francis relaxed, and he felt a bit more assured hearing that. It was nice to know that at least Antonio wasn't diving into this blind. Perhaps he had some sense in love after all.

"Oh, Toni, how about you check on Rosalita? It's been a while since you've seen her," Jeannes suggested easily.

Antonio blinked, as if just remembering the importance. "_Ay_, you're right! I should go check on her," he started hurrying towards the back door. "Thanks for the help guys!"

"Hold up, will 'ya? I'll go with you!" Gilbert called, and followed him to the door. "I'll help you start planning how to win this guy over. I'll tell you all of my secrets."

Before Francis could get his voice in to protest, Antonio had already exclaimed a gleeful _"gracias"_ and the door closed behind them. It was quiet, and Francis glanced at their trotting figures through the window wistully, worriedly. Gilbert didn't understand the entire situation and he didn't know Lovino as well as Francis did. Francis had regular luncheons with Feli where all they did was exchange gossip. He knew what Lovino was like: how religious, how afraid he was. And although he could empathize – okay, well not really. Francis was never_ that_ religious. It'd never been an obstacle for him to overcome. But he did understand fear and indecisiveness. He'd never been brave; it's not in his personality. So he felt for Lovino, but at the same time, he didn't want him anywhere near Antonio until he matured enough to figure out what he wanted.

"So," Jeanne's voice broke the silence, and she took Gilbert's seat. She watched Francis attentively. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Please, Francis, you're pouting," she commented with a small smile. "It's obvious you don't like Antonio's idea. Why not?"

Francis stared down at the table. "I don't trust Lovino. He's very… _religious_."

"Oh, so you don't trust religious people now?" Jeanne challenged teasingly.

"Okay, well," Francis laughed, trying to backtrack. "He's not like you. Lovino's strict and serious. He wants approval, not…" He trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Love."

"Really?" Jeanne taunted, her eyebrows raised. When Francis nodded she simply turned to the side. "He wasn't like that when I talked to him. He seemed lost. And scared. But is love so different for anyone else really?"

Francis groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. "Jeanne, stop it. You're sounding like a philosopher again. It's making me feel so human!"

Jeanne giggled. "Well, you should know this better than most. You were pretty lost too."

"Ah, no. I was lost before I met you, not after I fell in love," Francis pointed out firmly.

"I don't think Lovino's so different really," Jeanne stated and folded her arms over the table. "It seemed like when I met him, he was afraid to love Antonio, but I don't think he understood whether or not he loved him truly." She watched Francis's expression as she waited for it to sink in. "I think, once he realizes he's in love with Antonio, and Antonio loves him back, he won't be afraid anymore. Or at least not afraid enough to begin a relationship."

Another silence. Francis looked out the window as Jeanne looked at him.

Antonio's a lover. Gilbert's an optimist. And Jeanne's an idealist. But perhaps, in the end, Francis is a cynic for thinking this way. So he'll try:

"I guess we'll see."

~/~

Antonio returned to the Tesoro vineyards and it was sunset. He hadn't planned on staying for so long, but just in case, he did warn Berwald and Kiku to take over some of his jobs.

His bike rolled down the hill, and as he passed the main house, he caught sight of someone walking near the tomato garden. At the flash of reddish-brown, glinting hair, Antonio smiled. And quickly, he turned his bike to stroll down the driveway.

Lovino heard the gravel skidding, and he whipped around to stare. He was carrying a bowl under one arm, and as soon as he met eyes with Antonio, he turned back around.

Antonio saw his ears tinge red, but he pretended not to notice. "_Hola_ Lovi!" he called as he jumped off his bicycle. He set the kickstand and walked over, his heart ecstatic.

Lovino remained facing away, his hands fastidiously at work with plucking plump, red tomatoes from the plants. "Hey, bastard."

This was the first time Antonio had seen him since the balcony, but that seemed so long ago, it almost felt like a dream. They'd been so close, Lovino was so near and so golden, Antonio felt as though he might've loved him back. Nothing seemed impossible then. But strangely, daylight changed everything. It made things warmer, you see too much. And at night it's cool and clear like glass, you see just enough.

"How've you been doing?" Antonio asked. He hoped Lovino would turn to him.

He didn't.

"Fine."

"Oh," Antonio laughed lightly. "That's good." He clasped his hands together behind his back and tried desperately to think of what to say. Ah, what was it that Gilbert said earlier?

_"Alright, now listen closely. The way to a man's heart is through charisma, confidence and charm. Just be your best self. That's exactly how I won over Mattie."_

"Um, so are you picking the tomatoes for something? Are you going to cook again?" Antonio asked, smiling wide.

Lovino faced him, his eyes bright and his cheeks blushing a dark, enticing red.

_"And if they get easily embarrassed around you, you can be sure it's because they have a crush on you. I think my awesomeness kind of overwhelmed him at times and he was pretty bashful."_

"W-well, I thought I might cook something. Feli isn't feeling too well, so I thought I might make some simple pasta with marinara," he said simply, and tightened his grip on the bowl.

"Oh, is he okay?" Antonio asked, suddenly worried.

Lovino's eyes darted away, his expression frustrated. "Yeah, yeah, he's fine. I'm pretty sure he brought this on himself. He's been doodling too much in that journal of his, and hardly sleeps, and now he goes running," Lovino paused to sigh disapprovingly. "The idiot's just overdoing it."

Antonio watched Lovino's face: his voice sounded annoyed, but by the nervous creases in his forehead and firm press of his lips, it looked like he was secretly very worried. Antonio grinned. "That's so cute!~"

Lovino looked up a bit startled, and immediately glared. "What is?!"

"How you're so worried for your brother. It's so sweet!"

"Damn it, I am not worried about him! I told you, it's all his fault. He's too damn creative for his own good," Lovino exclaimed, and after he caught Antonio still laughing he huffed, "Oh, whatever. I'm going back inside." And at once turned on his heel.

That snapped Antonio from his momentary glee, and in a few long strides, he was in front of Lovino. "Wait, I, um…" Antonio trailed off, feeling a bit lost in deciphering Lovino's eyes. Should he be honest, or tell a white lie? Would it even be a lie?

_"Also, sometimes paying a little attention to someone else will get their attention. If they get jealous, it's a pretty good hint they're into you. It didn't work on Mattie, but in most cases that's a sure thing."_

"Do you mind if I stop by and say hi to Feli? To see how he's doing?" Antonio asked, his smile pleasant. He watched Lovino's expression intently.

At once, it was as if a light went out. Clouds moved over the sun. His lips didn't bend upward or downward, and his eyes didn't wander, but something… sad took over. "Oh," he mumbled, and fixed his hair. "Yeah, whatever. He's inside if you want to see him."

Antonio kept smiling. "Alright!"

Now, Lovino's eyes shifted. He looked away, disappointed. But still, he didn't say anything. Was it strange that he was so quiet? Did that mean he was jealous, or no?

"Just remember to take your muddy shoes off," Lovino ordered, and continued walking past Antonio. He opened the door with one hand and balanced the bowl with the other set against his hip, and looked over his shoulder. "Hurry up! I don't have all day!" Lovino shouted, and Antonio finished throwing his left shoe on the doorstep, ready to enter. Lovino wasn't about to greet him graciously. "About time," he mumbled and they both went in.

It wasn't any different than last time. It was still elegant, ornate, shiny, very, very clean, and the whole thing made Antonio just as uncomfortable as last time. It reminded him a bit of his parents' home: it was so perfect, it felt like a museum. And with Antonio being the way he was, he could hardly stand to be in a place he couldn't live in. The indoors always felt so stifling.

But, all the same, it wasn't his parents' home. It wasn't that perfect. And the kitchen was what made Antonio feel at ease. Obviously, someone has been cooking some gourmet meals. The perfume was warm, the sink was filled with pots and dishes, and cutting boards and cooking tools were scattered all around.

Lovino seemed to remember this, and awkwardly, he said, "Um, sorry about the mess. Tino's on break right now, so it's just been me cooking." He set the bowl down and started rinsing the tomatoes under the sink. "And Feli usually cleans, but he hasn't been feeling really up to it."

"Is he that sick?" Antonio asked curiously, and without thinking, joined Lovino at the sink, and started dowsing the dirty pots in dish-soap.

Lovino noticed, and didn't say anything, but Antonio was sure he saw him flinch and blush.

_"If someone has a crush on you, it's pretty common for them to want to stay as far away as possible. They're attracted to your awesomeness, so of course they're afraid to get near it! Kesesese!~"_

Well, that comment by Gilbert may be a bit of an overreach.

"Ve~ Toni! What are you doing here?" Feliciano called, his voice distinctly happy, but also a bit weak.

Antonio dropped the pot and immediately turned around. "Feli!" He hurried over to give Feliciano a quick hug. Feliciano seemed a bit confused after he pulled away. "I was in the garden with Lovi, and I thought I might check in on how you're doing? He said you were sick."

At that, Feli giggled. "Oh, I'm not that sick! Lovi just worries too much. He's so cute!~"

"Damn it, I am not! Who said I was even worried about you?" Lovino snapped, and gave one of his tomatoes a hard chop.

Feliciano winked at Antonio and gave a small, secret smile. "He really is sweet," Feli whispered near Antonio's ear.

"I can hear you whispering!" Lovino shouted, and twisted around to glare in their direction. But he caught Feliciano leaning so close to Antonio, and in the same instant, he turned back around. His ears were bright red. "You guys are idiots," he muttered, and resumed chopping.

Antonio's heart dropped. Lovino sounded almost… mad. Perhaps this strategy wasn't the best. Whether jealousy works or not, Antonio can't bare, not even for a minute, that Lovino would hate him. He'd worry that it would last forever, and that whatever small chance he had would fly away.

He caught Feliciano's curious, watchful eyes and changed geers. "Um, so how are you feeling lately?" Antonio asked.

Feliciano tilted his head, and darted his eyes from Lovino to Antonio rapidly. "I'm fine," he smiled, but couldn't hold it long before he broke into a harsh, coughing fit.

"Fine, he says," Lovino mumbled.

"Do you think you need to see a doctor?" Antonio asked and laid a hand on Feliciano's shoulder worriedly.

But Feli transitioned from a cough to a laugh and smiled at him. "Ve~ no, I'm not that sick! It's just a cough. I'm sure it'll go away soon."

They both heard a scoff from Lovino's direction, and Feliciano winked again at Antonio.

Perhaps this was his chance.

"Hey Lovi," he began, and was glad that for once, they weren't eye to eye. That would make this more intimidating. "Would you like me to help you make dinner? I'm not as good as a cook of you, but I can help!"

Lovino stopped chopping. Antonio watched his back for answers. The muscles were tense, strained; he gripped the knife tightly.

Then finally, Antonio blinked, and time moved again. Lovino grabbed another tomato, rinsed it, and poised his knife over it.

"No thanks, bastard. I don't need your help," he said.

_"If he has a crush on you, he might be afraid to get close to you on his own. But if you ask him, then he'll be be too ecstatic to decline."_

"Oh," Antonio replied, and wringed his wrists. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Lovino answered, not missing a beat.

Through the window the sun was setting; the last rays of golden and vermillion light framed Lovino, but the rest of the room was dark. It felt cold without the sun.

Antonio did the only thing he could do. He forced his lips up and dug deep to find a laugh. "Ah, well, alright Lovi. I understand," he said easily. "I'll go then."

He couldn't find the courage to add I'll see you later.

"Bye," Lovino muttered, and slammed his knife hard against the board.

He wasn't looking at him, but Antonio smiled anyway. "I hope you feel better, Feli," he said. Feliciano gave him a lost look, but Antonio kept walking. He wanted to run. He wanted to escape. Suddenly the house felt too small, the rules too large; he couldn't imagine all of the things his parents would have to say.

So he took a few fast steps to get to the door, grasped the doorknob, and somewhere behind him he heard a voice. Feli's.

Antonio turned around, Feliciano was skipping up behind him, but he couldn't do it. He didn't have the energy to talk anymore, to be happy, to laugh, _to lie_. So he mustered all of his strength, turned around, looked Feli in the eye, smiled, and ran out the door.

~/~

"Lovi."

Lovino sighed. "Yeah," he replied, not bothering to move aside the covers.

There was a creak, and then footsteps. "Hey Lovi–" Feliciano stopped to cough, loudly and violently.

Lovino groaned, and at once pulled back the covers. He leaned over his night stand and turned on the light. "Damn it, Feli. Just go see a doctor already. You're coughing like a maniac."

He was also pale, and his eyes were glassy, and Lovino was sure he had a fever, but he decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I don't like going to the doctor," Feliciano mumbled, suddenly meak. After a moment, he looked up excited, but Lovino was quick to interrupt.

"Don't you dare change the subject! You know what? Fuck it. I'm done letting you mope around the house. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to the doctor. I don't care what you say."

Feliciano blinked, his face blank. Then out of the blue his giggled, and gave him a happy smile. "Ve~ alright, Lovi! Whatever you say!"

Lovino frowned. "I mean it, damn it! Don't think I'll let you sleep through this. I'm going to call Elizaveta, bribe the shit out of her, and get you an appointment. I'm not waiting anymore."

"Okay!~"

"So you'll do it?"

"Sure!~"

"No complaints?"

"Yep!~"

Lovino gave him an even stare. "Well, good," he said, and reached out to turn the lamp off.

"But you have to do something for me in exchange!" Feliciano exclaimed.

"Fuck," Lovino cursed in the darkness, and quickly turned the light back on. "What do you mean I have to do something for you? I'm taking you to the doctor out of the goodness of my heart, damn it!"

"_Si_, I know. But you see," Feliciano's smile grew suspiciously, and he looked off to the side. "I promised Francis that I was coming for brunch on Sunday, and he already has all of the meals and horses planned for me already." He paused, and let that sink in. "So… I was hoping, since I'm too sick, that you could maybe take my spot?"

"No," Lovino replied automatically.

"_Cosa_? Why not?!"

"Because I fucking said so," Lovino snapped, his voice even. "And besides, you might not even be that sick. Maybe Elizaveta will say you're a hypochondriac."

"I am not!"

Lovino rolled his eyes and looked to the side. He felt a blush warm on his cheeks, and it made him angry. He shouldn't feel this way thinking about the_ possibility_ of running into the Spanish bastard again. He might not even be there! A-and, it shouldn't matter anyway. Because he doesn't care, and Antonio's a guy, and… whatever.

Feliciano already knew what was on his brother's mind and tried to work a few steps ahead. "Well, if Eliza says I'm too sick, can you go for me? You don't have to stay the whole time, just stay for brunch at least. But if I'm fine – well, then I'll go!" Feliciano smiled, trying to reassure his brother. "Is that okay?"

Lovino was glaring at the floor, his flush spreading to his ears and around his neck. He felt his heartbeat pick up. He'd been avoiding Antonio again, and that had been working out fine. But to see him again, after he snapped at him a few days ago? How was he supposed to act?

Lovino clenched his fists and tried to summon some courage. "F-fine."

Feliciano brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, great! _Grazie fratello_! I'm sure Francis will be happy to see you again!"

"Whatever," Lovino muttered, and slowly his fingers grazed over his cheeks again.

"And I'm sure Antonio will be happy to see you too," Feliciano added, his voice mischievous.

Lovino's hands dropped to fists and he glared. "Shut up!" he yelled, and brought his knees to his chest. "I don't care what he thinks."

Feliciano watched him and hummed thoughtfully.

Lovino wasn't amused. "I swear to god, if you don't get out of my room right now, I'm going to convince Eliza to give you a bucket of shots."

Despite how scary the threat sounded, Feli laughed, and obediently, he left the room.

Lovino hugged his knees, and looked out the window. He touched his cheek again, and since no one was watching, he smiled.

~/~

Despite what he said, Feliciano wasn't actually okay with going to the doctor. He liked Elizaveta, but she was still _a doctor_, and she still worked at _a hospital_, and hospitals still, even after all of these years, sent chills down his spine.

But he decided it was a sacrifice he had to make. After what happened in the kitchen, Feli decided it was up to him to push Lovino back towards Antonio, and it was his duty as a brother to make him happy. He may still deny it, but it was becoming apparent to Feliciano that even Lovino knew he was happier around Antonio. He was just so scared.

Like Feli was now.

Lovino and Tino dropped him off at the office and said they were going to the store to buy some things and would be back later to pick him up. So he was alone. In the waiting room. Of a hospital. Surrounded by dated housekeeping magazines, bland, blue walls, and a unmistakable sterile smell. It made his palms sweat.

Soon, a woman propped open the door and called, "Feliciano Vargas?"

"Yes!" Feliciano said, and stood to attention.

The lady – a very curvy, sweet-looking lady – smiled a bit in surprise, but replied with a kind voice. "Oh, aren't you enthusiastic? Just follow me and I'll show you to a room."

Feliciano laughed a bit in embarrassment and followed her inside. It wasn't a checkup, so they didn't stop for the preliminaries, and once they were inside a clean, eerie looking cube, he sat down on the paper covered lounge chair. It crinkled, and that made him more anxious.

"So," she said and looked down at her clipboard. "You're here because you've been feeling sick, is that right?"

Feliciano stopped looking at the flyers of different shots. "Um, yeah. It's mainly a cough that I have."

"Alright, well, let me take your vitals real quick," she said, and pulled out a thermometer from a cupboard. "Open your mouth."

Feliciano did so, and obediently held the thermometer under his tongue. She looked at her phone absentmindedly, and Feli glanced at her nametag to calm him down. Katyusha.

_Beep!_

She looked up, and delicately removed the thermometer. "Oh, dear."

"What?" Feliciano asked, his heartbeat racing again.

She turned the thermometer around to show him. "You have a fever of 102 degrees. You're definitely sick then," she declared, and wrote something down on the clipboard. "Alright, let me take check your blood pressure, and that'll be it."

Katyusha whipped out the device, and wrapped the pads around Feliciano's arm with a secure velcro crunch; then she pumped, and let rest, pumped and let rest, and so on. The entire time, Felciano was jumping from prayer to prayer, suddenly worried that perhaps he was too much of a lazy catholic.

"Are you nervous?" She asked gently, and Feliciano realized she had removed the arm cuff.

"Oh, um, kind of," he laughed softly.

"Don't be. Dr. Edelstein is a great doctor," she reassured him with a pretty smile. "I'll be back after your check-up. Don't worry, she'll be here soon." And the door closed behind her.

Feliciano jumped off the lounge chair and started pacing. Everything was going to be fine. Lovino said so. Tino said so. There was nothing wrong with him. He was sure of it. But dio, did he hate hospitals. Feli hated going to hospitals since his parents died. It was a different situation; they were in a car accident and were placed in the emergency room, but still… there was something ominous about being here, that made Feliciano feel like he was inches away from death. It terrified him.

And the colorful posters of diseases and viruses spamming the walls of the room weren't helping at all. Feliciano suddenly wondered if it wasn't too late to skip out and dash out the building. He could tell Lovi that he was diagnosed with a flue and everything would be better soon. Yeah. That could work.

With his mind made up, Lovino was already at the door, his hand on the door knob. But as he turned it one way, a stronger force turned it the other, and the door pushed open. Feliciano stumbled back.

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't know there was someone near the door," a deep, masculine voice said. It was even and cool, and didn't seem particularly worried.

Feliciano shuffled around the door, just as the other opened it wider.

_Oh._

It was a doctor. A male doctor. Or at least that's what it seemed? He was dressed in a sharp suit: crisp shirt, neat tie, ironed pants, shined shoes. His blond hair was parted and combed, it even looked like he used product to keep it stiff and shiny: not one hair out of place. He wasn't wearing a labcoat, but he had a nametag. Somewhere in Feliciano's periphery, he caught sight of it, but… he couldn't be bothered to check what it was, because he was too busy memorizing the blue of his eyes.

"Ah, Feli! It's nice to see you again!" Elizaveta said, suddenly materializing by the stranger's side.

Feliciano finally diverted his attention, and remembered to smile. "Ve~ hi Eliza! How are you?"

"I'm good! You know – just busy with work and all that," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Feli laughed, and slyly darted his eyes back to the blond. And it seemed he was staring right back at Feli, but at eye contact, he quickly glanced down, suddenly absorbed in his clipboard.

Feli looked down. His name was...Ludwig Bielschmidt. Did that sound familiar?

"Ah, right," Elizaveta said with a clap. "I don't know if you've met Ludwig. He's shadowing me this summer. He's a med student, and the younger brother of Gilbert. You remember him don't you?"

"Oh!" Feli exclaimed, very surprised. "You're Gilbert's brother?"

He flicked his eyes up from his clipboard and gave Feli a blank look. "Yes, I am."

Feliciano laughed. Even the way he talks is nothing like Gilbert. He's so serious! "_Ciao_! I'm Feli!" he announced and extended his hand. After a second, Ludwig met him for a handshake. "Nice to meet you!" Feli added happily.

Ludwig seemed a bit thrown, and his lips pressed together nervously. "Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "Nice to meet you too." He broke the handshake and resumed holding the clipboard securely.

"Well then, since we're all acquainted, how about we get started? Feli, you can go ahead and take a seat on the chair," Elizaveta instructed and she closed the door behind them.

Ludwig sat down on the stool near the table, and Elizaveta rolled her comfy office chair next to Feliciano.

"All right then, Feli, what seems to be the problem?" She asked.

Feliciano was staring at Ludwig again. _Why was he taking so many notes? Does he want to be a doctor? Oh, I'm sure he'd be a wonderful doctor. But he's so serious. I wonder if he ever smiles…_

"Feli?" she repeated, slowly following his gaze to Ludwig.

"Oh, right!" he exclaimed, and sat up straight. "I just have a pretty bad cough."

Ludwig frowned at the clipboard, and Elizaveta prompted, "Any fatigue?"

"Um, yes…" he admitted reluctantly. Then clarified, "But I've been doing a lot of sketching and a while ago I was running every day. I missed some sleep too."

Ludwig scribbled something down.

"Alright, so perhaps a bit of overexertion," she said and looked to Ludwig. He passed her the clipboard and she scanned the papers. "It seems like you have a rather high fever. Has this been going on long?"

Feli paused. Well, he refused to take his temperature, but really, he kind of knew he had a fever. "Maybe for a few days."

"Mhm," she nodded her head. "Let's see now… Do you have any trouble breathing? Any chest pain?"

He blinked. "Um, yes."

"So, when you inhale, your chest hurts?"

Feliciano tried inhaling, and unconsciously, he winced. "Yeah, it hurts a bit."

"Hm." Elizaveta tapped her chin, and looked to Ludwig. "What do you think?"

He glanced at Feliciano with unwavering eyes, and Feli could just see the list of calculations scrolling on his lips.

"It seems like bronchitis," he said, his voice still laden with wry seriousness. His eyebrows knit together and he asked, "Why are you smiling?"

"Huh?" Feliciano replied and finally sensed his giddy grin. "Oh, sorry. You were just so cute!"

Ludwig's eyes widened in the exact moment Elizaveta bent over laughing, and that sound only seemed to embarrass him further and a light blush dusted over his cheeks.

"Oh, sorry! Did that embarrass you?"

"No!" He exclaimed, and shifted his glare from Feliciano to Elizaveta and back again. He smoothed his hair and tried again. "But that's not an appropriate comment to say to your doctor."

"You're not my doctor!" Feliciano giggled.

"That's right, I am!" Elizaveta said, her eyes dancing.

"_Verdammt_, it doesn't change the situation!" he insisted and slammed his fist against the countertop to emphasize his point.

Feliciano wanted to laugh again, but instead, he broke into a cough. Frustration appeared to drain away from Ludwig's expression, and Elizaveta moved to pat Feliciano's back.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Feli. Bronchitis can be pretty painful," she said. "But on the bright side, you don't have pneumonia, so it's not that bad!"

"_Pneumonia?!_"

"I said it wasn't pneumonia," she clarified, and bit back some laughter. She held the clipboard up again. "Now then, I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics, and see how that helps. You'll probably have to take it easy too, and make sure to get plenty of rest."

"All right," Feliciano sighed. He supposed this was the best outcome he could have hoped for. He wasn't dying and Lovino still had to go to brunch.

"You should also come back sometime to see how the antibiotics are treating you," she commented and flipped a few pages. "Maybe one week from now?"

Normally, the impending doom of having a doctor's appointment was enough to send Feliciano running for the hills. He would have said _No, a million times no. I'm fine! Completely fine! Ve!~ …_

But this time, the first thing he did was look to Ludwig's bland, calculative face, smile, and exclaim, "I can't wait!"

~/~

Lovino was pissed.

Where to even begin? First, it turns out, after a week of moping, coughing (_damn, so much coughing_), and stupid tiredness, Feliciano has bronchitis. He had a fever of 102 degrees, and mucus stuck to his lungs. Was he a caring brother? It turns out no. He let Feliciano sit on this for a fucking week. Ugh, he should have known.

Second, when Lovino and Tino showed up at the clinic to pick him up, he was _skipping_ to the god damn car. When he told them he had bronchitis and they had to pick up his prescription, he _smiled_. When Lovino asked him why he was smiling, he _giggled_. _What the fuck was that about?_

Third, after all of that drama, Lovino was _still_ going to brunch at Francis's place. Alone. Without Feli. But among everyone else he doesn't want to see. Including, but not limited to, the much dreaded Antonio.

Why was it that even thinking his name sent darts into Lovino's heart? It hurt. Like guilt. But not the guilt he was accustomed to. This was different: not like a sin, like a lie. For some reason, he felt guiltier for pushing Antonio away than for cherishing that night on the balcony. He felt as though he saw something then. For once, he wasn't as naive. There wasn't definitely a flicker, a spark, a light in Antonio's eyes that night. He wasn't looking at Lovino like a friend or _Something like that_ (to quote his asinine words); he was looking at Lovino like he wanted something, like he was trying to figure something out. He was looking at Lovino the same way Lovino looked at him.

And if Lovino was being truthful, he did feel a bit bad for his cold shoulder the other day. It was just too soon to be so close after actually being so close a few nights before. Jesus, it was if they had a one-night stand, it felt so awkward.

Lovino's motorcycle skidded past the Jeanne d'Arc Vignoble sign, and he sighed. The air was flying by his skin, but he knew he was blushing; he had to stop thinking about this. He just had to go in, see Antonio, and… what? Talk to him? Ignore him? Tell him to stay away? Kiss hi- Oh, god no. What? How? Why did that even cross his mind? Antonio can be bi or whatever, but that doesn't mean it's okay for Lovino to be gay, right? Right?

He was so absorbed in his new train of thought he hadn't even noticed the speaker.

_"Bonjour, is someone there?"_

"Um, y-yeah. It's Lovino Vargas," he stuttered, and rubbed the sweat from his palms off on his pants before regripping the rubber of the handles.

_"Ah, yes. You can go on in. Monsieur Bonnefoy and Mademoiselle Romée are expecting you."_

The gate opened, and Lovino obediently started up his motorcycle to continue driving into the horseshoe.

_Romée_? Who was Mademoiselle Romée? Did he know that name?

The same, or at the very least similar servants met him near the sidewalk, and as one took his motorcycle for valet parking, the other handed him a glass of champagne.

"Thanks," Lovino muttered and tossed it back before resuming his trek into the house. He needed all of the alcohol he could get to go through with this thing.

~/~

"So Lovino, what's changed since the last time I saw you?" Michelle asked with a smile. She reached out for another waffle and placed it on her plate.

Emma brought these waffles, and Emma was sitting a bit too close to Lovino for his liking. Between Emma's melancholic aura, Michelle's eating, Elizaveta's gossiping, and Roderich's general pissiness, Lovino felt very agitated. Francis met him at the door and told him to join the others outside, but Lovino didn't know that meant Francis would be fleeing from the scene indefinitely. How was he supposed to handle these idiots?

"Um, well," Lovino coughed and quickly took another sip of champagne. "Well, nothing much. I just got back from Europe."

"Oh really?" Michelle's eyes lit up. "That's interesting. Was it a fun trip?"

"Yeah, I guess," Lovino muttered, and tilted his gaze down at his plate.

"Have you talked to Antonio recently?" Emma asked, her tone sugary-sweet.

Lovino didn't know if it was baited or sincere, but either way, it made his skin flush in shame. He felt like she knew something he never told her. "U-um," he mumbled, and fidgeted with his napkin. "Not really. We've both been busy. And Feli's sick."

Emma's lashes fluttered in surprise. "Oh? He's not too sick I hope."

"He has bronchitis," Elizabeth replied cooly, her arm slung over the chair's wooden shoulder. "But don't worry, he has the best doctor in town!" She raised her glass and powered through the last gulps of champagne.

"You're as confident as ever I see," Emma laughed, and the two of them absorbed themselves in a new conversation.

Lovino was left alone with his blush and nervous sweat, and as he moved to pour another glass of champagne, he accidentally made eye contact with Michelle. She was radiant: all tan skin (_like Antonio_), dark hair (_like Antonio_), and bright smile (_like Antonio_). It made him wonder…

"So how have the equestrian competitions been going?" he asked, his tone suave, and with all of his Italian charm.

Her brown eyes sparkled in appreciation of the question. "They've been going well!" she gushed. "Victoria's such a great horse. She's won over a dozen ribbons now."

"Is she here today?"

"Of course! I hardly go anywhere without her," she laughed.

Lovino offered a rare, cavalier smile and leaned over the table. "Do you want to go riding together? Maybe you can show me the ropes."

"Oh," Emma paused in quick surprise. She was confused for a second, but then she shook her head and smiled. "Of course! Sounds like fun."

"Great," Lovino replied and took another sip. He felt Emma's gaze on the side of his face, but he didn't dare turn around. Whatever she thought she knew about him, he was going to prove her wrong. And Antonio wasn't going to mess this up.

~/~

Jeanne was absolutely certain. Ever since she was a girl, she felt as though she had an uncanny sensitivity towards others. She understood Francis's confusion and hopelessness through his eyes, the wistful quirk to his smile, the echoes in his voice...So she knew, without any trace of doubt, that Lovino was talking about Antonio that day in church. Call it instinct, call it a hunch, regardless of what it was, Jeanne_ knew_.

And she understood Francis's worry and his doubt. But he didn't see what she saw. And today, she was determined to prove it to him.

"_Mon chère_, what are you thinking? You look like a cat in front of a mousehole."

Jeanne finished pinning her riding cap and found Francis's face in the corner of the mirror. She smiled.

"I'm going to win our bet," she said.

Francis raised an eyebrow questioningly, before the answer dawned on him. He held his head in his hand and sighed. "I don't know if I should be more worried for Antonio or Lovino."

Her lips twisted silently. "Both."

~/~

It wasn't too long before Francis came down to greet them, and just like old times, Michelle, Lovino and Francis were soon on their way down the dirt path towards the grand and imposing figure of the stable.

Lovino fidgeted with his hands nervously and looked around. Every few steps he checked side to side, over his shoulder, and forward for any sign of Antonio. He was fairly sure Antonio was working in the stables, but the possibility that he wasn't and was somewhere else unnerved him, so he kept his guard up.

What would he say when he saw him? Should he be polite? Or rude? Should he apologize for the other day? He felt bad, but…Emma's comment earlier still made his skin burn. _Would it be gay to be nice to Antonio? It's too confusing, damn it._

"Well, Lovino," Francis said, interrupting the drawn-out silence. "Antonio's horse is a bit too pregnant to ride now. Would you like to ride one of my horses?"

_Shit, one of those tall things?_ "Um, sure."

"Aw, are you worried? I promise they won't bite," he purred with a smirk.

"Damn it, I'm not worried! Give me whatever horse you want, I don't care!" he shouted, and wished he had the sense to pack a rock or something to throw at the bastard whenever he said something stupid.

Francis chuckled, and even Michelle giggled at the comment. That just made Lovino more embarrassed, and as they approached the impending door of the stable, Lovino withdrew even further into himself.

"Alright! Here we are! Home sweet home, no Michelle?" Francis said as he led the way down the familiar, soft-lit hall. It smelled of animals and hay and earth, and gave Lovino goosebumps. He remembered when Antonio held him here. When he fell on top of them and they were so close. Too close.

Then a familiar, dark-brown mare was led outside of a stall, the same mare as last time, and Michelle sped ahead calling, "Victoria!"

"_Mon dieu!_ Don't run like that, you'll scare the horses!" Francis yelled, but gave up with a shake of his head.

Lovino hardly paid attention. When he saw Antonio leading Victoria out by the reigns, he could only stare at him. Even if Lovino was looking away, he was still aware of where Antonio was, still paying attention to him from the corner of his eyes, still listening, still waiting…

He heard Antonio laugh, charmed by Michelle, like last time. It made Lovino's heart pang in jealousy, but at the same time, Antonio's laugh was like a Spanish melody.

As he and Francis approached, Lovino made sure to keep his eyes to the side, and his hands deep in his pockets.

There was a shuffle of hay, the talking stopped and Lovino knew.

"Lovi?" Antonio exclaimed hesitantly, almost like a question.

Reluctantly, Lovino looked up, he thought he was ready, but at the sight of those green eyes, he melted.

"I didn't know you were coming," Antonio continued, and took a step forward. "I thought Feli was the only one–"

"He's sick," Lovino said quickly, waves of heat traveling across his cheeks.

"Oh, that's right," Antonio replied lightly. He hummed for a moment. "It's nice to see you again."

This is why Lovino never made eye contact, when he did, he couldn't find the strength to look away. He couldn't lie. "Y-yeah, um… you too," he mumbled awkwardly. He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

Antonio's grin widened, and a sparkle that wasn't there before twinkled in his eyes.

_Damn that smile._ "Also, about the other day, I-I'm sorry I snapped at you," Lovino said. He felt like he was confessing.

That twinkle danced, and unfamiliar emotions waltzed around with it. "You don't need to apologize."

_Then why did I feel so guilty about it?_ "Right," Lovino huffed. He darted his eyes back to the ground. "I'm riding one of Francis's horses."

"Oh, okay," Antonio replied, and was swiftly by Lovino's side, a skip in his step. "Just follow me!" He started walking down the aisle, and looked over his shoulder once to make sure Lovino was following him. He held the gaze longer and commented, "You look nice by the way."

Lovino's blush spread to his ears and he darted his eyes to the side. His fingers touched his cheek. "Thanks," he replied shortly. It didn't seem like a fair compliment, since he was wearing a simple shirt and riding pants. His hair was all right he supposed, but he felt too flustered to be attractive.

Not that he wants to be attractive to him.

Antonio chuckled about who knows what and paused in front of a stall. He opened it up and went inside as Lovino stood numbly by the wooden walls. There was some neighing and some Spanish whispers, and after a few minutes, Antonio was leading a white mare (_was it Marie?_) out of the stall. Whatever her name was, she was just as tall as Lovino remembered.

"Alright then. This is Marie," Antonio introduced, and ran a calming hand down her nose. "You met her last time, but I promise she isn't as scary as she looks."

"Damn it, I wasn't scared!" Lovino snapped, and waved his fist to make a point.

Antonio laughed, and he winked mischievously. "Sure you weren't."

"I wasn't!"

"Okay!~" Antonio sing-songed and finished leading Marie out into the hall. He grabbed a saddle and slung it over her back. "Just wait a minute while I get her ready for you."

Lovino grumbled and leaned against the wood as he watched Antonio work. He was wearing torn jeans (again), and a button-down shirt he refused to actually button up (at least not decently). Without meaning to, Lovino caught himself tracing the planes of Antonio's arms and neck and wondered what he'd look like if he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He only realized it when Antonio happened to make eye contact with him, and his face burned hundreds of degrees hotter. What was he thinking? Part of him was terrified Antonio might've known about the fantasy, because Lovino would have swore, by the way Antonio was moving and flexing his arms, _that he just knew._ The bastard.

When he was finished securing the saddle, he took a step back and gave Marie a few more pets.

"So are you riding with someone?" he asked, his voice strangely smooth.

This was what Lovino had been dreading. "Y-yeah, I'm going with Michelle."

Antonio stopped petting to glance at Lovino. "Oh, really?"

Lovino pressed his lips together and nodded.

There was silence. Then the crunch of hay broke it, and Antonio said, "I hope you have a good time."

Lovino met his eyes and savored that smile. It was Antonio's beautiful, selfless, loving smile – the one he used when he lied.

"Thanks," Lovino coughed, and shuffled near the side of the horse to hurry on top. He nudged one shoe in, but before he could try to get up on his own, Antonio was by his side, and his large hands were holding his hips and easing him up. Lovino pretended he couldn't feel it.

Once he was settled, Antonio held Marie and asked him, "Do you feel okay?"

"Yep," Lovino answered automatically, eager to leave.

Antonio seemed to sense that, because as soon as Lovino held the reins in his hands, he took a step back and said, "Well, have fun then. Be safe, all right?"

Lovino held his breath. His heartbeat was too fast.

"Okay."

And he sped out of the stable.

As usual, he felt the pain of saying too much, yet not enough at all.

~/~

"So do you like horses?" Michelle asked conversationally.

Lovino glanced at Marie's gigantic, powerful figure. "I guess," he said reluctantly. "I don't hate them. They're just kind of big."

She giggled and patted Victoria's neck. "Aw, but that just makes them cuter!"

He pursed his lips before laughing lightly. "Says you."

She watched Lovino laugh admiringly, and they continued their canter down the vineyard aisles.

~/~

They wandered for a while. Or it felt like a while. A long while. And all the whole time, Lovino's mind kept drifting back to the stables, and wondering what Antonio was doing now.

As they traversed into another vineyard aisle, transitioning to another lighthearted topic of conversation, they stopped to listen to a rushing gallop. It was loud, and getting increasingly loud as they stayed still. Just as Michelle was about to turn to Lovino and ask something, another horse appeared, and it stopped abruptly at the sight of Lovino and Michelle and rapidly, it approached them.

It was Francis's other horse, his stallion Napoleon, and riding him was a woman. She had short, dark blonde hair tucked under a neat riding cap, only the bangs escaped near her eyes. Those grey, stormy eyes. Lovino knew her somehow.

But she seemed worried. Traumatized.

"Jeanne? What's wrong?" Michelle asked, her voice tense with anxiousness.

She glanced from Michelle to Lovino and her mouth stayed firm in a frown. "It's Antonio," she started.

_What?_

"He's hurt."

_No._

"Badly."

_How?_

"He was… in the stable… the horses… he was kicked… and–"

_No… no… no… no… I–_

"Wait - Lovino? Where are you going?" Michelle called, and twisted Victorio around to watch him.

Lovino heard her, but he couldn't speak. If he had a body, he didn't feel it. He was numb with fear, but somehow, the smallest part of him knew what to do, knew to flick the reigns, knew to gallop back.

_Because. Antonio. Was. Hurt._

_Antonio. My Antonio. Smiling, beautiful, handsome Antonio. Was. Hurt._

Was his heart still beating, or did that stop too? It felt as though everything turned cold. For once, Lovino's skin was cool and dry, and his blood frozen in its tracks. He was hardly himself. There was only one thing on his mind.

He had to get back. He had to. He had to. What was he going to do? God knows what. Hold him. Pray for him. Kiss him. Anything. _Just don't let him be hurt._ _Please God, don't let Antonio be hurt._

Seconds, minutes, some indistinguishable amount of time later, Lovino was at the stable gate, and with an increased frenzy, he did his best to unattach himself from Marie and hurry down to the floor. One foot, two, and he hopped down, stumbling slightly. Then he was up, and searching 360 degrees around.

He had to say something. "Antonio," he whispered, struggling to find his vocal chords.

He tried again. "Antonio?"

_Louder._ "Antonio!"

_Louder._ "God damn it, Antonio!" he yelled, now at the top of his lungs. Everything was too quiet. What did that mean? Had an ambulance already picked him up? Was he–

Lovino heard a grunt, and at once he was on the trek again. "Antonio? Are you here?"

Now it was more like a groan, and Lovino's stomach twisted. "Lovi?" he replied softly, weakly.

"Yeah, yeah. It's me. Where the fuck are you?" Lovino asked, and he kept staking down the aisle. The he caught Antonio's figure, crouched and huddled in the corner of a stall. _Oh god._ "Antonio!"

He burst through the door somehow, and ignored the fat horse standing idly in the corner. Lovino went straight to Antonio, who was lazily opening his eyes, and in one swift movement, Lovino wrapped his arms around him.

"Oh god, Antonio," he cried, running his hands down Antonio back. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. Are you okay?" Lovino pulled back and examined his arms, his neck, his chest.

Antonio started to pay a bit more attention and was laughing easily. "Lovi? What are you doing?"

"Shut up! I'm trying to find your injury," Lovino said quickly.

"Injury?" Antonio asked. That tone made Lovino's heart drop. "What injury?"

Slowly, Lovino lifted his gaze up. He finally looked Antonio in the eyes. Antonio was smiling, his eyes were sparkling happily. He was fine. "Jeanne," Lovino started weakly. "Um, Jeanne said – she said you were injured. That you were hurt. And that it was bad."

Antonio knit his eyebrows together. "What?

"Sh-she said–"

"No, I know," Antonio interrupted, something giddy lingering on his lips. "But you thought I was hurt?"

Lovino felt like he was at a loss. "W-well… yeah, I mean–"

"And you were worried?" Antonio pressed, his hands suddenly holding Lovino's.

"What?"

"You were worried about me?"

_Yes. Yes, I was. Wasn't it fucking obvious you imbecile? I almost had a heart attack because of you._

"N-no," Lovino stuttered, he tried to free his hands from Antonio's grasp.

Antonio didn't let go. "Then why are you here?"

Lovino tugged again. "I don't know! J-just because!" he yelled. "Damn it, Antonio! Let me go!"

"Lovino," Antonio began again, this time his voice was serious.

Lovino stopped struggling and stared at him, eyes wide. The first thing that came to mind when they made eye contact was _He knows._ He knows what Lovino doesn't even want himself to know.

But before Antonio could say anything else, someone interrupted.

"Lovino? Antonio? Where are you guys? Jeanne said it was a mistake!" It was Michelle's voice, and she sounded like she was near.

Antonio looked around a bit distracted, and Lovino took the opportunity to yank his hands free and fumble to his feet. Antonio, lazy with sleep, was slow to react, and just as he was standing up, Lovino was ten feet out the door, sprinting away.

"Wait! Lovino!" Antonio called.

Lovino didn't know if he was running after him. he didn't want to risk turning around. If there was one thing was confident in, it was that he could sprint from danger. And that's what Antonio was. He was danger._ A sin. _

Lovino sped out of the stable, to the house, past Francis's servants, and towards the garage. He didn't wait for a valet, he just grabbed his key, started his motorcycle, and drove out of the estate.

He didn't know what happened exactly, but Lovino knew he had to get out. Whatever happened, it happened too fast, and all of a sudden it felt like Antonio knew too much. Everything Lovino didn't say aloud or to himself, Antonio knew now.

And that terrified him.

~/~

_somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond_

_any experience, your eyes have their silence:_

_in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,_

_or which i cannot touch because they are too near_

At night, Lovino sat alone in his room. Feliciano asked about brunch and the riding trip, but Lovino brushed him off and made fast pace for the solitude of his room. His sanctuary.

So he sat there. He read some, he wrote some, mostly he just lied in thoughtful silence and stared at the ceiling. All the while, he fought the urge to loiter near the glass of his balcony door and wait for Antonio's tall figure to appear, farming, gardening, or walking somewhere below.

Lovino was upset with him. No, he was afraid of him.

He was afraid of him, yet why did he also ache to see him?

He turned over in his bed, so he could at least _glance_ at the balcony door. Against all better judgment, he hoped, he prayed, he wished…

_Tap!_

And at the sight and sound of a small pebble smacking off the window pane, Lovino's heart raced. But he didn't dare believe yet. So he waited.

_Tap!_

Another pebble.

_Tap!_

And another.

_Tap!_

Two hands appeared on the whippety iron railing, and only a moment later, Antonio's brown curls appeared too. He hoisted himself over, and landed on the balcony with a thump. Matching the sound of Lovino's heart.

_your slightest look easily will unclose me_

_though i have closed myself as fingers,_

_you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens_

_(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose_

His green eyes shined through the door and met Lovino's. He was standing casually, his hands in his pockets, and a small smile.

Lovino was still lying on his side, staring desperately outside. He wondered whether to move or not. Antonio was waiting for him (_it felt like he was always waiting_), so should he go? It doesn't have to mean anything. But perhaps, just to go...that's okay. _I'm curious_, Lovino told himself.

So slowly, he rolled off of the bed. He raked his fingers through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to create some order, and tentatively, he walked towards the door. His eyes flicked up to make sure Antonio was an appropriate distance away, and once he confirmed that he was, Lovino unlocked the door, and pulled it open.

He kept the door open just in case he needed an escape, and then, even shyer than before, Lovino moved closer.

_or if your wish be to close me, i and_

_my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,_

_as when the heart of this flower imagines_

_the snow carefully everywhere descending;_

"Hi Lovi," Antonio said. The warmth in his voice reddened Lovino's cheeks.

"Climbing balconies again?" Lovino replied, and leaned against the wall of his house. He tried to hide his trembling hands.

Antonio grinned, and he took a few steps closer. "It's the only way to reach you."

"I'm not a fucking princess," Lovino muttered, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Antonio laughed. He was only a foot away now, and the sound of his voice gave Lovino goosebumps. "You sure act like one," Antonio commented, and Lovino made the mistake of looking up and catching the playful glint in his eyes.

He felt hotter. "_Tsk_ – whatever bastard," he mumbled, and unconsciously, he touched his cheek, before tucking his hand back in the crook of his elbow. Lovino glanced back at Antonio, there was something mysterious about him, something unusually dashing. "What do you want?"

"Ah, straight to the point then," Antonio chuckled. His eyes wandered towards the sky and then aimed right at Lovino. "I came here because I wanted to tell you something."

Lovino sucked in a breath. He pressed himself further against the wall. Antonio didn't say anything more, so he prompted, "Yes?"

Antonio's eyes never left his face. He took a step closer, and Lovino could smell the scents of grapes and grass lingering on his skin. Antonio bit his lip, then smiled. "I think you might already know, Lovino. But I figure, since you and I have a bad habit of evading the truth, perhaps I should just say it."

Lovino couldn't back into the wall any further. This is what it's like to be cornered by a wildfire.

Antonio was holding Lovino's hand again. His eyes were vivid green, that was all Lovino could see. And all he could hear was, "I love you."

_I love you._

_Antonio loves me._

_He loves me._

Lovino breathed, his lashes fluttered down, and he stared at their intertwined hands. "Oh," he gulped. "Um, r-really?" Butterflies filled his stomach. He felt light-headed.

"Yes," Antonio affirmed, and gave Lovino's hands a squeeze.

"Oh," Lovino gasped again. He didn't know what else to say. What was he even supposed to do?

Antonio's hands grazed his kin, and delicately brushed some of the locks away from his forehead. "Do you mind if I ask something?"

"S-sure."

Antonio cupped his cheek. "How do you feel about me?"

Oh god. Antonio. How did he feel about Antonio? "Um," he began, and he thought perhaps he heard Antonio suck in a breath. Lovino's eyes wandered back to Antonio's, he could never look away for that long. "I-I don't…I..." he sighed in defeat. "I don't know."

Unexpectedly, Antonio laughed. It sounded like relief. "That's better than I would've thought," he smiled and his eyes traveled across Lovino's face. "Do you–" he stopped, like he second-guessed himself.

Lovino wouldn't have any of that. He was already too wired. "What?"

Antonio measured him, and leaned the tiniest bit closer. "Do you mind if I try something?"

"U-um, o-kay," Lovino replied. He couldn't find the will to say anything but yes.

Then slowly, Antonio bowed closer, bending his height so that his head hovered close to Lovino. He was still darting his eyes all over Lovino's face, but once they were centimeters apart, he looked at his lips, and he kissed him. It was tender the way Antonio cautiously molded his lips to Lovino's. He held the back of his head, and made sure to kiss him gently, cautiously, but with the clear aim to savor the sensation.

_nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals_

_the power of your intense fragility: whose texture_

_compels me with the colour of its countries,_

_rendering death and forever with each breathing_

Lovino didn't know whether his heart could beat any faster to flush his cheeks like this. It was a chaste kiss, yet Lovino felt breathless. But he didn't crave air, he was breathless for more. His hands ached to draw Antonio closer, but some part of his brain wouldn't let him. But he wanted to touch Antonio so bad. He wanted to feel more of him. His skin. His hair. Just him. Lovino didn't want this kiss to end.

But it did.

Antonio unlocked their lips, and pulled away far enough so that Lovino could look into his eyes. They were such a dark green. They were shining and dazzling, and so, so green. It was the most beautiful color in the world.

Neither of them said anything. Lovino didn't know what to say, and it seemed like Antonio was waiting for Lovino's outburst. A negative reaction of some kind.

But it wasn't there.

And Antonio kept watching Lovino, and Lovino kept breathing. He looked up, down, and unwittingly licked his lips when he thought Antonio had turned away.

It was minutes when Antonio spoke again. "You look nice today."

Lovino tried to bite down his smile, but failed, and he tried to hide it with his hand. "You already said that."

"Did I?" Antonio laughed. He ran his fingers through Lovino's hair again.

"Yeah," Lovino mumbled, and brought his hand back down to nervously twist with his other.

"You know what you're like?"

Lovino knit his eyebrows together and looked up. It felt like a trap. "What?"

Antonio grinned. "Red wine."

Lovino shook his head as a reluctant chuckle left his lips. "You're so stupid."

"Maybe," Antonio laughed, and he leaned to press a short kiss to Lovino's forehead. "But you always smell like red wine. Fruity, but also kind of…bitter."

"That sounds appealing," Lovino rolled his eyes.

"And you look like red wine too," Antonio teased, and kissed one of Lovino's cheeks.

Lovino felt even hotter. He wanted to hide away. But then why was he still smiling? "You really are stupid."

Antonio's hands wandered to Lovino's waist and drew him closer until his hips met Antonio's. "And you want to know what else? You taste like red wine too."

Lovino's skin buzzed. "You don't like red wine."

Antonio grinned mischievously. "I think I'm starting to like it."

Lovino's stomach flipped, but he made a show of hitting Antonio lightly on the shoulder. "You idiot."

Antonio hummed, and resumed pressing his lips to the sides of Lovino's face.

Lovino breathed shakily as he mustered up the courage to say something. He felt as stupid as Antonio right now.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"C-can you…" Lovino looked away. He wanted to dash into his bedroom. But he didn't. "C-can you try...that again."

"What?" Antonio asked, his voice innocent.

Lovino's heart stuttered in tune with his voice. "_Y-you know_…"

A few seconds, and Antonio echoed a soft "_Oh._" Lovino felt his hands slide up his sides, he wanted Lovino closer.

Antonio tilted Lovino's face up with one hand, and Lovino was forced to witness his smile again.

"Did you like the first kiss?" he asked happily.

"No," Lovino lied.

Antonio didn't seem offended. Instead his eyes brightened. "Should I try to make it up to you?"

Lovino glanced at Antonio's lips, and then his eyes. "Yes."

Antonio grinned, and smashed their lips together.

_(i do not know what it is about you that closes_

_and opens; only something in me understands_

_the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)_

_nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands_

* * *

~/~

* * *

_*"somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond" by E.E. Cummings_

* * *

_I don't have much to say. I feel like this odyssey of a chapter speaks for itself xD Can you believe__ I originally planned to make all of these chapters like 5k each? And now they're like 8k plus xD The past few being over 11k. I have a problem. _

_And, if you haven't already, please check out The Goliath Beetle's gift fic for me. It's called The Rose Family, and it's absolutely fabulous. As are all her lovely stories. I highly recommend you give her works a look-see :D She's amazing._

_Anyway, thank you so, so much for reading! I really appreciate all of your support! As I say in every chapter, I am lost the entire time while writing it, but I find my way to the end because of you guys. _

_Til next time! __Please review :)_


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